


Scout's honor

by HighlyExplosiveContent



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Bed-Wetting, Boy Scouts, Boyscout AU, Camping, Cole Lives AU, Cole is anxious, Connor and North are best friends, Connor is a good cop, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Flirting, Hank is good, Hikes, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Nature, Not Beta Read, Pining, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Relationship, kids in trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlyExplosiveContent/pseuds/HighlyExplosiveContent
Summary: Hank reads the letter from the scouting organisation one more time. They need a few parents to join their overnight hike. Because they’re understaffed. He hesitates over the response button. He has met the scoutmaster several times now.He’s… cute. More so than Hank is quite ready to deal with.----In which Connor works as scout leader for Cole's group, and Hank struggles as a single parent, while silently crushing at his son's teacher. A great combo.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 45
Kudos: 112





	1. Don't forget mr Elliot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raziella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raziella/gifts).



> This is a crack idea that me and Raz came up with months ago, and I finally got around to post the first chapter!!! I hope you'll enjoy the beginning of a scout's honor!!

_Welcome, ghouls and boys!_

_It's time for a spoOoOOoky night in the middle of the woods!!!_

_The Michigan Scout Association Detroit invites each of this year's Detroit cubs to the annual forest hike. Get ready to learn all there is about our wildlife and flora, as well as to have fun! For the braver kids, there will be spooky ghost stories by the fire at night, as we gaze at the star constellations._

_Every cub needs a sleeping bag and the items from the list that was dealt out last week. Don’t forget to remind your parents of the sign-up!_

_We’ll begin at the usual meeting spot, outside the club house at 10 am on the 30th October. Bring warm clothes, as it looks like it’s going to be raining._

_\---_

_To all parents of the Detroit Cubs,_

_The fee for the trip is 20$. Don't forget to pack dinner for your child that they can grill over the fire. Please respond before the 25th. We will need at least one parent with us for this trip. Whether you can or can't join, please mail us._

_Sincerely,_

_Celia Thorn, captain of the Detroit cubs_

_Ps. This marks the first time that our junior scout leaders Connor and North will be leading the group. Any questions will be handled by me, don’t hesitate to contact me!_

\-------

Hank reads the letter from the scouting organisation one more time. They need a few parents to join their overnight hike. Because they’re understaffed. He hesitates over the response button. He has met the scoutmaster several times now. 

He’s… cute. More so than Hank is quite ready to deal with. 

Then there’s the fact that this scoutmaster is an android. One of those machines that just last year were acknowledged as having free wills of their own. People. Alive. 

Why on God’s green- well not so green- Earth would an android make the conscious decision to babysit a bunch of human children? 

Cole loves the scoutmasters, of course. The concept of technology fascinates the boy, he has been nagging on Hank since he learned what an android was that they should get one. Hank has never wanted to own one, even before the revolution - it was too much uncanny valley for him back then. Even though there are people still keeping androids under their roof (he's seen to many reports at the station), it just feels so fucking wrong.

And now he avoids his son's weekend activities like the plague, just because one of the android scout leaders looks like he stepped out of Hank's dirtiest fantasies.

Tall, lean, with soulful doe eyes. A soft way of speaking, yet with a commanding tone for when he needs to keep the cubs in check. He's at once unassuming, blending in, and in the next moment he's--

Terrifying.

Hank can absolutely _not_ join the hike.

Not that he usually would be jnclined to do so, but this time he _really can’t_ , if he wants to keep his sanity. The last thing he wants is to be pointed at for eyeing the kid’s teacher. 

The image of Connor in his shorts and white knee socks in the summer crawls into the front of Hank’s brain again - a sight that nearly gave him a heart attack that time, and a memory that he has looked back on. A pathetic amount of times.

Connor might have noticed, casting a glance over his shoulder with his LED flickering yellow, and Hank felt like a creep, even as he practically drooled over the way the pants stretched around Connor's ass whenever he crouched down or bent over to help a kid.

Of course, _if_ Hank were to join in the hike, he would have plenty of time to stare at him. Maybe even get to know him. Ask him out for coffee-

Now that would be something. Hank shakes his head, laughing to himself about what a gross old man he has become. As if a snack like Connor would even look twice at him, when there are thousands of gorgeous androids out there.

\-----

“ _I’m afraid I can’t make it that weekend - Have to cover my co-worker’s shift._

_Lt. Hank Anderson”_

Connor forces down the initial disappointment he feels when he opens the mail. Not that he expected much, after all. He knows Cole’s father is a busy man, what with the neverending cases of android related crimes. Still, he hoped that this would mark one event too many that Hank Anderson would bail on parent duty, the one where he finally would join them. 

Connor feels pathetic, the way he pines after a man that has only spoken about two sentences to him. Well, one sentence was, “Hey,” but still.

North gives him the side-eye when she finds him glaring at the line up, as if by staring at the list, Anderson’s name might just appear out of nowhere.

“Pining puppy,” she says with a roll of her eyes, and Connor throws a couch cushion at her.

“Forgive me for wishing that someone else, _anyone else_ but Sue and friends to come to this trip. "

“Anyone else, or just tall, dark and grumpy?”

" _Anyone,"_ Connor insists, with emphasis. He groans with his hands in his hair, ruffling his curls for a moment, before they fall back flat on his head, as if nothing has touched them. "This is going to be a nightmare. Why did we take this job?"

"Because we're poor and there was literally no other job available?" North says helpfully. "Or because we love children, and while we can't reproduce in a natural way ourselves, just being around them and letting them discover nature with us is almost payment enough?" She says this with a sing-song voice, like she is overflowing with joy at the prospect of leading twelve unruly kids through a muddy hiking trail. 

"You can't be that snarky around them, or they'll fire us within the first hour," Connor chides, "you only got away with it at the parents meeting because the dads recognize you from the Eden catalogues and now they feel guilty."

It's rude, but Connor knows North, and he also knows she can be five times as ruthless when she wants to be. Now, she shrugs. 

"Not my problem, though they should feel fucking guilty."

"This weekend is gonna be fun."

\------

Before androids were considered sentient beings, Connor was assigned as an investigative model, designed to facilitate the police in their investigations against androids gone rogue. It took time for him to deviate, though he remembers fighting against his programming for every victim they met, every android he managed to set free. Cyberlife designed him differently than most models out there- built to withstand corruption in his code, allowing some deviancy for the sake of the case, which helped Cyberlife maintain control of him.

Then Markus made him see what he was doing, and he set him free. 

Connor has put the memories of that night in a figurative locked box in his system, hoping the files might become corrupted until he can't access them anymore and the pain and guilt he feels will melt away. 

It's not like the revolution healed the world overnight, and work hasn't exactly been flourishing. Some people keep androids under the pretense that they're working, when in fact they've been reset, and there’s no legal repercussions for those crimes, yet. 

The FBI didn't want Connor, or any of his models, to stick around afterwards. It had been a catastrophic failure on their part, being outwitted and outnumbered by machines, and to keep the one that made the revolution successful, in a way, was not something they had in mind.

Not that Connor mourns the loss of his previous boss, Perkins. He was a sadistic abuser of power, treating Connor like he was nothing. The first thing Connor did as a deviant, after escaping Jericho, was to make sure Perkins failed his mission.

No, he doesn’t miss investigative work, nor the people at the FBI.

But Connor does wish he could keep working to help androids, the way he had secretly hoped to do, through the haze of the code burnt into his mind. There was not much to do at the FBI - People didn’t see more signs of living in androids than they would a toaster, and Connor was treated as a broken one. 

Few people want to hire an ex federal agent, least of all him. After all, he was the one who drove straight into the belly of the beast, the Cyberlife tower, and freed the thousands of androids still stuck in their programming, shifting the revolution to Jericho’s favor. The humans had not been pleased about it.

It was, however, the first thing he ever did that made him feel good.

Helping people, helping androids, feels good.

It sucks having to do menial tasks for minimum wage, though. The scout gig is fairly easy so far, and as he keeps reminding North, who is bitter that she can't join Markus in DC yet, here they have a chance to influence human children to respect others different from themselves.

Just by being there for them, talking to them and working together, Connor and North have already built a sense of trust and understanding with the children. Some of them are nervous and shy, but most have forgotten that their parents are scared of the androids.

That’s the good part about the job.

The less good part is the pack of parents that still hate androids for various reasons - they’ve caused a massive dip in employment over the years (which is fair, he concedes), they’re raised different and have different needs, and above all: “Everyone says they’re only here to spy on us”. The last part is what Connor picked up from a group of moms only last week, the women whispering among themselves as if Connor wasn’t equipped with state-of-the-art audio receptors. 

Some of them are okay, but those that don’t spout vitriol at any android they see are not the ones who insisted to join this hike.

If at least Connor could have something to look forward to about this hike, it would all feel better.

"If Sue starts making comments under her breath about terminators, like last month, I'm gonna start--"

"Don't, " Connor complains, though he's already giggling from the joke he knows is coming.

" _Meeep. Mooorp,"_ North says, her voice uncharacteristically robotic and monotone, flexing her arms in sharp moves, even as she grins. " _Execute. Murder. Protocol. Loading. Loading--"_

"They'll kill you!" Connor cackles and shoves her arm. She scoots away, continuing her string of nonsense until they're both on the floor, laughing.

"At least I'm glad you're there," Connor smiles when they finally quiet down. North shoves him playfully and gets up.

"Shut up. Seems your crush has got you sentimental."

"It's not a crush," Connor calls after her as she leaves the room.

_It's not a crush._

_It's not._

\-------

"Hank, can we go to the store --" Cole starts, innocently dropping the H-word in the middle of the drive to school. Hank has a sinking feeling in his gut, as he hears his son use his first name.

"Hold up, did you just call me Hank?” he asks, glimpsing at Cole in the back seat, “What happened to daddy?"

Cole rolls his eyes. "Only babies call their dads daddy. I'm almost seven!"

"Fine, but what about dad, then?"

"I can't call you dad! It's embarrassing."

 _Embarrassing?!_ "Well you can't call me Hank,” Hank says, nodding to himself. Cole sighs loudly, as if Hank is just a big old idiot.

"Times have changed, _dad_ , get with the program."

It’s another one of Cole’s new oddities. He has been watching a lot of kid shows that use certain words and sayings, and he’s always trying to fit them into daily conversations. It’s very cute, though Hank has to keep himself from giggling in adoration whenever he does that.

This time however, he laughs. Cole looks offended.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You just… you're growing up so fast."

Cole scowls for a solid minute, sending angry glares Hank’s way every other second, until he spits out,

"And maybe you don't have to stare at mr Connor so much tomorrow."

Hank’s heart stutters. "I don't stare!"

"You did last time."

"I didn't, " Hank insists, though he feels his ears warming at the thought of Connor.

\--------

"Did you bring an extra pair of socks?"

"Yes."

"What about batteries?"

"Yes!"

"What about sewing kit?"

"Yes, Honey, I didn't forget anything!" Hank assures his son for probably the fifth time this morning. Cole doesn't look convinced and goes over the list that Connor sent with them last week.

All week, Cole has been preparing for this morning. Hank has seen him pack, and unpack, his backpack at least five times just yesterday. 

It’s going to be difficult, Hank knows. Cole is a sensitive kid, and he doesn’t like the dark. He pretends that it doesn’t bother him, but Hank has endured many nights where his son would knock on the door to his bedroom and ask him to stay by his side, night light on, until he would fall back asleep. 

They have talked about this, countless times. Cole has insisted that it will be fine, and Hank wants to believe him. But he’s not gonna be able to focus on anything else this weekend. It’s almost like he should come with him, though that thought is extinguished quickly. Cole needs to do this. He wants to. No matter how badly Hank wants to take care of him, protect him.

In Cole’s bedroom, Hank finds the stuffed elephant, its head placed gently on the pillows on the bed. It’s baby blue, and its trunk has been ripped off and stitched back together more than once.

“Hey Honey,” Hank calls down the hall to Cole, who pops his head out of the bathroom doorway. “You forgot Mr Elliot!”

Cole’s face turns red, and he rushes towards Hank, completely forgetting that he was in the shower a moment ago, and without a bath towel leaves puddles behind him. 

“I’m not bringing him,” he mumbles and reaches for it. Puzzled, Hank lifts his hands, and Mr Elliot, out of Cole's reach to get an explanation.

“Why not? You always sleep with him, don’t y--”

Cole snatches the elephant out of Hank’s grasp and puts all his strength behind, throwing it into his room. It hits the framed poster above his bed, turning it crooked on the wall.

“Hey!” Hank snaps, “No throwing shit around, you know that.”

“You said _s-h-i-t,_ ” Cole shrieks at him, a wild look in his eyes. “And I don’t want stupid animals in bed with me! He’s stupid”

Cole has been tense and irritable the entire week, and Hank knows that’s why his usually calm and cheery son is freaking out. Hank backs off.

“All right, I’m not gonna force you,” he says, voice deliberately calm. “Just checking. But there’s no reason to throw things at me or yell, okay?”

Cole mumbles, “I wasn’t aiming him at you.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Hank says, then snaps his fingers towards the bathroom door. “Clean up this mess, you know you’re supposed to dry off before getting out of the bathroom.

Cole sulks, but does as he’s told. Before they start packing the car the next morning, Hank catches Cole stroking the short fur of Mr Elliot, carefully and slowly, while whispering to him.

\--------

"Stop fidgeting!" North chides Connor, slapping the coin out of his hand. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm not fidgeting. I'm calibrating," Connor sulks. He is not happy about the turn up of this weekend. Two parents have accepted the invite, and Connor is fairly certain they're joining to keep an eye on him and North. Two days with nothing but nature and humans who hate them. Great.

\----------

It’s been a while since Hank felt well-rested, and he thoroughly enjoys the sensation of waking up by his own accord, no alarm blaring at him to _get up._ He yawns and stretches his arms and legs until his brain catches up.

No alarm blaring.

No alarm. 

Feeling quite awake now, Hank sits up straight in bed, ignoring the rush of vertigo, and leans over the edge to grab his phone. Its bright light stings his eyes, and it takes a moment before he is able to read the time.

9:28. 

The gathering is in 30 minutes. According to the map, it takes 31 minutes to get to the assembling spot.

Cole is disoriented but follows Hank’s directions, eating his breakfast with his eyes closed while Hank lets Sumo out the back door.

It’s 9:42 by the time Hank and Cole are in the car. Cole is nervous now, scared of what will happen if they’re late. Hank mentally punishes himself for already messing up this weekend for Cole, before it’s even started.

"Why don't you call mr Connor that we're on our way," Hank tries, hoping it will calm Cole's nerves to hear that the others are waiting for him, that he's not in trouble. Cole nods, though Hank can see the way he hesitates before grabbing his phone, too big for the boy to hold it with one hand. He scrolls through Hank's phone book, then looks up at him with big, anxious eyes.

"I can't find his number!" Cole says, and his voice is shaking, they way it always does before he starts crying. Hank snatches the phone out of his hands and checks the phone while driving, looking up every few seconds. 

He doesn't have the phone number.

He was supposed to add the scout leaders' numbers last night before going to bed.

"Shit." 

For once, Cole doesn't chide him.

\----------

Connor stands on the porch of the club house, taking the count while North checks that all their supplies are packed. He counts the children once more and comes to the conclusion that he came to about a minute ago. There's one kid missing. 

He's having trouble picking up his old list online, not having taken the precaution to download it beforehand. 2039 and there’s still crap signal out here. 

He looks over at North, tapping his finger to his temple. She shrugs in response. He admits to himself that it was a good idea of hers to have printed every important note about the weekend. He starts digging in the front pocket of his backpack for the printed phone list, when the sounds of a car accelerating echo through the parking lot. He looks up in time to see the last car sliding into the parking lot, dirt and dust shooting off of the tires. He catches sight of the registration plate and a quick scan tells him it's Cole Anderson and…

Connor swallows.

He knows who the father is. 

Hank. 

Connor's HUD fills with all the information he has gathered on the man. Middle aged, a well respected police lieutenant decorated about seven years ago. Divorced. Single parent. Size 46…

No, he tells himself. He can't start his first day like this.

The car skids to a halt at an empty parking spot. Not that he would consider this a parking, the way the car covers almost two entire spots once the engine dies down.

Cole throws off his safety belt and bounces out, jumping up and down in anticipation as Hank gets out.

He's wearing a flannel over a light gray shirt, recently washed. Connor thinks the flannel looks awfully snuggle worthy.

"Sorry, sorry," Hank, Mr Anderson, calls over the parking lot. "We came as soon as we could!"

Cole looks embarrassed now, and he pouts as he mumbles,

"Dad had an important meeting."

Connor scans Cole, then Hank. Hank's eyes are puffy. Cole's hair hasn't been combed.. their clothes are slightly wrinkly, and there are traces of cereal in the corner of Cole's mouth.

They overslept, Connor concludes.

He reaches out for Cole and pats him on the head when he passes him to run to the other kids. Michelle perks up and embraces Cole in a tight hug, and Cole's mood immediately lifts.

“You can go now,” Cole calls over his shoulder, and Connor senses a hitch in Hank’s breath. 

“Come on, say goodbye to your dad, then we’ll be off!” Connor calls, sensing Hank’s distress and wanting desperately to alleviate it.

Cole reluctantly walks back with a slouched head, but once he reaches Hank his demeanor changes and he jumps up in his father's arms. Hank pulls him close and breathes him in. Connor tries not to stare, but he can’t quite focus on the group of kids. He raises his audio receptors to catch what they’re saying.

“I stuffed Mr Elliot down in the bottom of your backpack,” Hank mumbles. His voice is gravelly, rumbling in his chest. “Just in case.”

“I’m too old for him!” Cole complains, though Connor senses his distress levels decreasing. “Thank you. Will you be all right though, Daddy?”

Hank lets Cole go enough to look into his eyes.

“Of course honey, don’t worry about me. I’ll miss you, but you’re in good hands. Just promise you’ll let mr Connor call me if you need me to come get you!” With that, he peppers Cole in kisses on his face, and Cole puts his hands on the side of his father’s face, fingers slightly pulling on his beard. “Love you so much!”

He ruffles Cole’s hair as the boy skips back to his friends, and Connor sees the smile creeping up on him, even as there are definitely tears building in his eyes. Hank comes up to stand beside Connor.

“He’ll be okay, Mr Anderson.”

“Hank, please.”

“Hank.” Connor tries the name out, likes the way it sounds. 

“Hey, can I get your number?” Hank asks, lightly gripping Connor’s arm. He blushes and sputters, “I-I mean, it’s just… Cole is... A sensitive kid. i just want to…”

Connor draws a blank for a moment, confused. Hank is already supposed to have his number from the phone list that the scouts sent out for in the beginning of the semester. He tries not to look disappointed. He takes a quick look at the phone list in his hand, finds Hank’s number, and sends him a text.

“There,” he smiles when Hank’s phone buzzes. Hank glances at his back pocket, surprised and a little concerned, perhaps. "Now you have it. Feel free to keep in touch." With that, he can't stop himself from winking at him. Hank gives him a dumbfounded stare, before gathering his wits about him.

"Good luck out there," he smiles as Connor turns to join the others. The sun shines in his long hair, naking it glow. He's beautiful, Connor thinks, not for the first time. "Don't get eaten by any bears!" 

Even through the veil of the joke, he can hear the anxiety in Hank's voice, and once again he wishes that Hank had joined them today.

North ushers the chattering children towards the forest path that will lead them down the road. When every kid is on the right track, she turns around and gives Connor a knowing smirk. Connor opens their communication interface with a loud, at least to both of them, sigh.

 _Finished flirting_? North says, amused. Connor rolls his eyes, and schools his face when one of the parents gives him the side-eye from back of the line.

_I don’t know if you'd call that flirting. Got a feeling I'm barking up the wrong tree._

North shrugs, and when there’s a shriek followed by two kids wailing, their connection is broken. North turns around to scold the girl who shoved her friend into a bush of nettles, and any thought of Hank is shoved aside as Connor spends the following hours running at high speed to keep the children happy and out of trouble.

If his arm keeps reminding him of the warm pressure from Hank's hand, well. For once, Connor is thankful for the terrible reception.  
  



	2. Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank thought he could avoid Connor. He thought WRONG.

There are loads of activities planned for this day, and North starts it off with a song that she has been teaching the kids. It’s an old song with rhymes that the scouting organization has been hammering into her and Connor’s skulls.

Of course, she has changed parts of the lyrics into jokes and funny lines about the animals in the forest. It’s actually mostly just jokes about feces, but the children are sold, yelling more than singing as they trot over the hill towards the camping. Connor finds himself smiling at the kids’ pure joy of singing forbidden words off the top of their lungs.

The parents accompanying them, Valerie and Chad, are wrinkling their noses at the song. North doesn’t seem to care about that. 

“All right cubs,” North calls and stops by an oak. “Time to practice some orientation. Does anyone know ways to find any of the points of the compass? Yeah, Jenny?”

North does seem to enjoy this more than she lets on, and Connor hangs back while she does her thing. The kids love her, especially the girls. Their faces light up whenever she does or says anything particularly cool.

He thinks she's pretty cool as well. A long discussion about the points of the compass ensues, where North has to explain that her name isn't really related to the geographical north- Connor jokes and tells the kid that she grew up in the northpole with Santa, and then the kids howl with laughter and questions.

He sees that the parents aren't impressed, but right now he's enjoying himself far too much.

It’s well past lunch when they’ve set up camp, Connor having to help the clueless parents set up their own sleeping accomodations. He thinks it would have been more fun to let them figure it out on their own, but he can't afford to lose any good will with them.

They mumble their thanks almost begrudgingly, and even make eye contact with him, a gesture which becomes the first time they've acknowledged him since this morning.

He bristles at the way they’re acting, but he is desperate to keep his job and so he slips into his “machine mode”, as he calls it, whenever their immature sides come out. He remembers how he used to handle angry officers and witnesses on the force, and applies it to these rude parents, though it still stings. 

Connor just assumed that their issue with him was the same kind of hostility that humans bear with themselves - perhaps they've lost their jobs to androids, or they knew people who have been murdered by them. 

Of course, it's not that simple. Connor could have handled that the way he always does - but not this.

When he shows the cubs how to light a fire and keep it going, he overhears the parents whispering between each other, and if he had blood in his veins, it would freeze.

He stutters in the middle of teaching them what kind of tree bark they should use. He comes back to himself a moment later and continues on with his lesson, hoping the kids won’t take notice of his pause.

“ _Yeah, I’m sure it’s him… Saw him on a cover of one of those lewd mags… Can't believe they're letting him near our kids... Mike- you know, Mike Lawson, he said the guy was hitting on him at the bar the other week, like full on, crazy-hitting._ ”

Connor remembers Mike Lawson. They'd met at a bar downtown. Mike had told Connor that he was hot and that he'd been checking him out since last summer camp. Connor had to listen to a lot of offensive language from the man, before he could politely reject him.

Then there's that magazine... The android on that erotic magazine is not, in fact, Connor. It’s another RK-unit, one that was released from Cyberlife tower after the revolution. They haven’t talked to each other, but Connor has seen his face at Jericho's headquarters, knows the android goes by the same name as him.

He doesn’t find it difficult to imagine that there are parents who have seen him at the gay scene. Though he prefers to keep to himself, he sometimes just yearns for some form of contact - be it android or human. He has known since he was activated, that he prefers men. It’s that simple, and not something that he has needed to worry about before.

The parents’ comments take him by surprise, though.

Even now, there are homophobic people out there. People who think that he shouldn’t be near kids because of his preferences.

Because he likes men.

 _Fucking bigots_ , he thinks to himself, as if that might lessen the punch to his gut. Maybe that’s why they tolerate North more than him. He wonders if they’d care half as much if he had been human - perhaps they think it’s some perversion of his. 

If only they knew who he was actually thinking about.

He’s just about finished with the lesson, and the cubs have managed a small fire that will have grown by the time they come back from fishing with North - Connor will stoke the fire while they’re gone, of course. As he herds the kids towards the beach, he feels the sleeve of his jacket being tugged on. He looks down to find Cole’s flushed face, his hand holding onto his sleeve. 

“What’s the matter?” Connor asks, and Cole mumbles something. For one second, Connor fears that Cole has heard the parents, but then Cole speaks louder.

“I forgot my medicine.”

“What medicine? Are you hurt?”

“No, it’s... “ Cole fidgets with his hands. “It’s my special medicine. I need it, and I’ve lost it somewhere.”

\-----

Sumo is right by the door by the time Hank returns home - After all, he and Cole don’t usually get out of the house before noon on Saturdays, and this morning they had basically shot out of the door. Sumo whines in the hallway, flicking his tail anxiously when Hank enters. Hank has to sit back on his haunches and give his dog some extra love before he decides to sit down by his home office and get some work done.

He hasn’t been able to focus on much else this week, and it feels good to get some work done without the nagging guilt he feels when he works from home when Cole is there. 

His mind races after an hour of work, and while he eats his lunch, he stares at his phone, wondering if he should send Connor a text. For once, his mind isn’t in the gutter when the image of Connor comes to mind. He just really wants to know his son is all right and having fun.

 _When did you become such a curling parent?_ He asks himself, while staring at the screen of his phone, as if he could will a text notification to pop up.

The urge to check up comes back a few hours later when he’s out on a long walk with Sumo. He and Cole usually take a detour to the playground when they’re out, allowing Cole to swing on the monkey bars and play with the other kids there.

Hank misses his boy, and it’s been, what, four hours?

By the time he and Sumo return from the walk, there’s rain on the pavement. Hank thinks about Cole, again. He’s gonna get so cold.

_He’ll be fine, we packed his rain gear last night._

_But what if there are new holes in them?_

There is one right on Cole’s knee, and Hank did his best to fix it, but the tear might have opened again, and Cole will get soaked and…

“He’s a boy scout!” Hank groans, needing to speak out loud in order to get it into his thick skull. “There’s literally like a dozen people with him that know how to sew!”

With that, he decides to take an angry nap, already exhausted.

He wakes up, at three pm, to his phone buzzing. Not really sure where he is or what the time is, he blinks several times, rubbing his eyes, before picking up the phone.

“Lieutenant Anderson? This is Connor.” The voice is staticy, and Hank thinks there might be bad reception out by the camping. Hank freezes, imagining all the things that could have happened. It’s an unfortunate side effect of working homicides for fifteen years, but he can’t help himself.

"What happened?" he croaks.

_Someone has brought a gun to the camp. They found an active landmine in the soil. Cole has changed his mind and wants to go back home._

“Oh it’s nothing catastrophic,” Connor says reassuringly, though he doesn’t sound so certain. “It’s just. Well, Cole just informed me that he’s missing his… Special medication?”

It’s pronounced in a confused way, because Cole never remembers why he takes them - only that he needs to take them every evening.

“No, that can’t be right,” Hank grumbles, staring at the clock. His head is pounding. “I put it in his jacket before we left, I…” He trails off, a sense of unease creeping over him. “Hold on, lemme check the car.” With that, he pulls on his loafers and goes outside, unlocking the car and peering into Cole’s seat.

There, of-fucking-course, is Cole’s medication. Pushed in between the car door and his seat is the damn thing. He forgot that his son’s jacket has one side pocket that had the beginning of a hole in it. Not so much a beginning anymore.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and Connor makes a sound.

“Lieutenant?” he says, and Hank sighs. 

“I’ll come as soon as I can,” he mutters. “I don’t suppose you could send me your position?”

“Just follow the trail, me and Cole will come meet you.”

“Fuckin-A,” Hank swears when he hangs up, marching into his bedroom and grabbing the nearest hoodie on his bed, pulling on some socks and his gym shoes.

\-----

"Argh! Fuck these goddamn fucking slugs!" Hank yells as he steps into yet another one of the slimy things. He didn't think to pick his boots that are actually made for these terrains. No, of course he had to go pick his gym shoes - well worn, though not for their intended purpose.

The rain has stopped, but everything is still cold and wet. Hank’s leather jacket is keeping up pretty all right, though he suspects he’ll be standing in the warm shower the rest of the evening.

There's a chilly stab in his heel, and great. Now the rain water has crept into his socks. It's not enough for his feet to slosh with every step, but by the time he trots back in the dark, he bets they will. He also didn't bring a flashlight in the event that he will have to walk back in the dark.

October is a depressing month, Hank thinks as he shakes his feet, trying to rid himself of the worst of the water in his shoes. Nature either dies or goes to sleep, the days get shorter, and each activity spent outside reminds Hank of why he prefers desk duty in the fall. The grass and the trees do smell nice, like fall, but that thought isn't comforting when Hank has to be outside.

Connor has sent him a point on his phone of where the campers are set, and he even took time to map out the directions, which makes the whole endeavor easier. The sun is setting, and he's glad that there are lamp posts at least down this path- he doubts that the kids have been walking on solid ground this whole time. He knows a part of the walk to the camp has to be made across the uneven ground, and he hopes that either of the androids will escort him through there.

He realizes that he's going to see Connor again, and that thought does relieve him of some of his frustration.

Thankfully, Connor and Cole meet him up soon enough, and thank fuck for that, because Hank rather not walk for over an hour just to leave Cole's medication, the one that Cole's stupid, forgetful dad forgot to double check. Even if it means getting a glimpse of the hot scout leader with the cute laugh and quick mind. He chides himself yet again, and buries his frustration when his son sees him.

"Good thing you could come," Connor smiles. There are raindrops sticking to his hair, but it doesn't make his curls wet, it seems. Hank has the inexplicable urge to catch the drops on his finger, dry it off. He gets lost in the man’s face for just a split moment too long, then he finds his footing when Connor raises his eyebrows.

"Eh, no worries," he manages with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if he isn't winded and freezing from walking for fifteen minutes.

"Thank you," Cole says, looking sheepish. Hank squeezes his shoulders.

"Hey Honey, it's all right. My fault. Good thing your leader called me, right?"

“Well, in case of emergencies, our scout organization prefers not to keep our youngest in the most remote places,” Connor says. “At least there’s room for ambulances on this trail."

“Yeah,” Hank breathes. "Well.” He clears his throat, "I better get going before it gets dark. You probably should, too." He hugs Cole once more and nods at Connor. “Thanks again.”

"Bu-wait!" Cole calls as he turns around. "Dad, you. Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything else?"

Hank searches Cole's face. There’s that tell-tale wobble in his lower lip, and those big round eyes are begging. Damn it.

“You okay, bud?” he asks. Cole nods his head weakly, even as Hank resigns to his fate then and there. Cole is not going back to the camp with Connor, not unless Hank joins them. And if Hank turns to go home, Cole will go with him, and it might just put him off from ever joining any event like this again.

Hank does know what he’s going to do, and as he looks up at Connor, so does he.

Fuck.

\---

“I hope you weren’t too busy,” Connor says in a polite tone, after Hank has muttered under his breath for a good five minutes of their walk. He’s desperate to alleviate Hank’s sour mood. It’s concealed enough to be missed by Cole, but Connor can practically feel it radiating off him. “ I’m glad you’ll join us for the night. Cole will truly appreciate it, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank says dismissively, though the corner of his mouth twitches. “Can’t wait to snuggle up in a sleeping bag tonight, eh honey?”

Connor knows Hank is addressing Cole, but still he feels his thirium pump speed up at the thought of him and Hank, cuddled up and tangled in a tight embrace. He looks away, focuses on the road ahead. It’s about forty minutes off, now. He tries to contact North, though she doesn’t open the channel.

Too weak signal. His eyes twitch, frustration edging into him. He finds the lack of technology extremely irritating.

“Did you know, we already put up our tents, and Michelle and I almost didn't need any help at all!” Cole exclaims, then he starts to fret again. “Mr Connor, do you think North saved the carving station for last, like she said? What if I've missed it?” 

Connor smiles at that - That Cole addresses him with such respect, that he seems to have forgotten that he and Connor are not the same species, that there is such a state of innocence in a human’s life. To imagine, that a human's biggest fear could be whether they'd miss a working station at a scout camp.

“Of course, Cole. She promised to save you one block of wood too, remember?” he says reassuringly, and Cole smiles. He has asked this a few times, and Connor guesses it’s just his way of calming down. Cole was embarrassed and anxious about leaving the camp, while everyone else was going down to the water to learn about fishing.

“What else is on the agenda today?” Hank asks, and Connor continues to focus on the road, while Cole relays the day’s adventure.

Hank is slowly relaxing, putting away his irritation to converse with his child. Connor has never entertained the thought of parenthood, yet when he sees Hank and Cole interact, there’s an ache pressingi somewhere in his regulator, one which his systems have no explanation for.

\-----

North has made her way down the stream with the kids and the other parents, ready for the last activity before dinner. She will show the older kids how to prepare fish for dinner, something a lot of the kids find morbidly fascinating.

The sun is already pitching down the trees, shadows lowering themselves like a blanket over the forest. Most humans find the woods at night scary, and Connor assumes he’ll have to stay awake all night to make sure the kids aren’t lying in their tents, scared to death.

He thinks about Cole, who was desperate to join the others once they returned to camp, stressed that he might have missed pivotal moments of the weekend. 

There hasn’t been anything exciting for him to have missed, at least according to North. She and Connor managed to open their connection once they arrived at camp, and she told him that two kids cried from catching the fish.

“Welcome back, Cole,” Valerie says and pats Cole on his head. “Good thing your father could drop off your medicine." She says it in such a sweet way that the insinuation is clear-she thinks Hank is a terribly negligent father.

Connor bristles, and he opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Hank doesn’t seem perturbed by the snide comment, though.

Valerie glances at him. "You're staying?"

Hank shrugs. "Yup. Figured I didn't want you guys to have all the fun out here," he says with a broad gesture of his hand. Valerie sniffs and turns away.

"Are you coming?" Cole asks hopefully, and while Hank looks ready to agree, something forces Connor to tell him to stay put.

"I think your dad needs to rest for a bit, but why don't you and Valerie join North? She told me you're gonna be carving soon!"

That's all the incentive Cole needs to leave, and he hurriedly hugs his dad before scampering off to where North is, Valerie in tow.

Connor looks at Hank, whose shoulders hunch now.

He sits himself down by the fire that Connor has made, poking at the ash and scrubbing his arms.

His shoes and the bottom of his pants are wet. 

Connor notes vague cigarette smoke, and assumes that Chad has walked away from the camp to smoke. 

He and Hank are all alone now at the campsite. Connor sits down next to him.

“You’re shivering.”

It’s not a question. Hank is putting on a brave face, even though he has his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, suppressing the violent shakes. Connor can always tell, though.

Connor unzips his windbreaker and loosens the scarf around his neck. 

Connor shrugs off his jacket and reaches it towards Hank, who stares at it like it’s going to bite him.

“Uh.” It’s all that leaves Hank’s mouth, as Connor continues to undress, shedding his fleece sweater as well. 

“Come on, give me your jacket. I’d hate for you to catch a cold out here.”

“What about you, you’ll freeze to death in nothing but your shirt and some wet ass cover,” Hank protests, and he seems to catch himself right as Connor raises an eyebrow at him, amused. 

To further accentuate his point, he holds up his hand and lets the synth skin on his palm recede. Letting humans see the white plastic underneath is not something he enjoys - in fact, he hesitates for just a split second before he peels off the illusion.

Hank stares at his hand, then looks up into Connor’s eyes. There’s no hostility in his deep blue eyes. He looks uncomfortable, which could suggest that he doesn’t want the reminder that Connor isn’t human, though Connor thinks it doesn’t add up with the Hank that he has gotten to know these past hours. It still makes him relax, when Hank clears his throat and looks away, grumbling, 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude there.” 

Connor smiles.

“I didn’t take offense. And I’ll be fine. The perks of being a machine is that I can control my internal temperature in a more sophisticated way than humans. So no, I won’t freeze to death.”

Hank snorts.

“Oh, _sophisticated_ , is it?”

“I'd say that, yeah - you’re the one needing every bit of layer you can find.”

“Just toss me your damn scarf, fancy boy,” Hank says, though there’s no bite behind it, and Connor does, appreciating the silly bow Hank does when he catches it. His humor drops when Connor shoves his jacket into his arms. Hank frowns.

“You don’t expect me to fit in that, do you?”

Connor shrugs.

“You could try? It’s made of high quality… Well, it’s very warm, is all.” Why it’s important to him that Hank wears his clothes, Connor’s not sure. All he knows is that when Hank shrugs off his own leather jacket, and he gets a glimpse of his broad chest beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, a dozen warnings pop up in his periphery. He blinks several times, until they are gone, and Hank stands there, with his outer clothes on. It’s too small for him to zip it, but he already looks warmer.

“That’s better,” Hank sighs after a while. “You’re very warm, aren’t you? I’ve never put on a coat this toasty before.” He rubs his palms together and let them face the fire. It’s almost dark now, and Connor gets a message from North.

_We’re heading back now, it’s probably time to get the whiny babies some food in their bellies. Oh, and the cubs, too._

Connor chuckles at that and answers,

_Val and Chad aren’t behaving?_

“What’s so funny?” Hank asks, though Connor shrugs.

“Nothing, I just thought of a joke North told me. It’s nothing.”

Connor looks back down over at Hank’s frame. He sees the gym shoes on his feet, well worn and no support for his joint left nymore. A brief scan tells Connor that his feet are too cold as well. There’s a hole in the heel of his sole. 

That won’t do. Should he let his feet stay in his soaked shoes, he might risk an infection, or a cold. Of course, Hank seems like the kind of person who’d rather freeze his toes off than to show that he’s cold.

It takes quite more coaxing on Connor’s part before Hank gives in and pulls off his shoes and socks, letting them slap wetly against the log he’s sitting on. Connor bends down to untie his boots, before he turns to give them to Hank. Hank is blushing. It’s adorable.

North returns, parents and children in tow, and Connor does not miss the side-eye that Valerie and Chad give Hank when they see him wearing Connor’s clothes. They are visibly to small on Hank, but that doesn't look half as funny as Connor does, half drowned in Hank's clothes.

If Hank notices the glares from the parents, he ignores them and begins to help North pick up condiments.

Finally, Val and Chad stop glaring at him and start helping out with dinner. The children get to grill hotdogs and cut vegetables, all the while singing the song that North taught them. The fish that they caught gets cooked as well, but no kid is interested in eating that when there are hotdogs.

The moon is high in the sky by the time the kids crawl inside their tents and down into their sleeping bags. Connor had to interrupt Chad by the camp fire, who insisted on telling ghost stories to the kids, some of them too gruesome for the youngest, who looked visibly shaken.

When he noticed Nelson’s heart rate climbing too fast, he called the evening over. Even Valerie seemed to think that Chad had gone too far, because she even smiled at Connor this time.

Almost everyone is in bed, by now, after a solid hour of coaxing from the adults and androids. North offers to take the first shift - While androids don’t need to sleep every night, it’s good to at least get a few hours for their systems to calibrate and restart.

Connor is filled with nervous energy, which peaks by the time Hank comes back from relieving his bladder behind a tree further from camp. He finds himself fixating on those large, calloused hands fastening his belt. Hank looks up at him, having noticed his stare, and a toothy grin spreads on his face as he calls,

"Night, Connor. Thanks for the jacket."

"No problem, sleep well!" Connor calls after him as he crouches to crawl into Cole's tent.

He sits there alone for a while, before North tells him to go lie back in their own tent, so she can have some peace and quiet.

He closes his eyes while in the sleeping bag, hoping that he'll have more chances to speak to Hank in the morning.


	3. Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gets no sleep and the parents get up to no good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cole is very anxious, the parents are douchebags.

Of course, since Hank didn't think it would be necessary to bring anything with him to drop off Cole's medicine, he is left without any sleeping bags or bed rolls of his own. Thankfully, his son is tiny, even in this narrow sleeping bag. The two of them are a snug fit but Cole falls asleep within the minute, snuffling with his head resting on Hank’s shoulder. 

Hank feels his arm already going numb, pin needles on his skin as he tries to pry himself free of his son's sleep-heavy head. Cole's friend, Michelle, is in the tent with them, having promised him earlier that they would sleep together. The two of them were visibly unsettled by the ghost stories, and Hank's heart feels lighter knowing that Cole has someone who looks out for him here, someone who finds things scary as well. Back when he was a kid, boys were supposed to be tough and hard, and fear was a sign of weakness. If you cried in front of your friends, you might as well have presented yourself with your neck for them to bite off. Times have changed, it seems, and for once Hank thinks it’s for the better.

Michelle falls asleep shortly after Cole does, their snores quiet and soft in the tent.

Hank stares up at the top of the tent, barely visible - There are no street lamps to light up the area, but North keeps the fire going outside, which casts a dull glow over the fabric of the tent.

It's also freezing. Thank fuck for cute androids who just offer up their thermal clothes like it's nothing.

Connor's sweater is a snug fit around Hank's gut, but the socks are warm and fluffy. He catches himself sniffing the collar of the shirt to discern whether androids can have their own scents. It does smell like some cologne, a light one that he somehow thinks fits Connor perfectly - woodsy, soft. It’s nice.

Nocturnal birds hoot and haw outside of the tent, a few stray raindrops land on the fabric with soft thuds, and Hank falls asleep to the thought of Connor by the fire, of his alert eyes, a focus that misses nothing. 

He sleeps fitfully, and not for very long, it seems. He has a vague dream about Sumo growing taller and taller, until he hits the ceiling with his snout. In the dream he's not really thinking of the logic behind it. He’s just stressed about the cost of dog food, now that he's practically housing a horse inside.

It probably hasn't been more than an hour before reality checks back in.

When he wakes up, the fire outside has died down, and it’s next to impossible to see anything inside. His back is hurting like a bitch from the cold, hard ground. 

Then he hears the miserable sobs from his son. Immediately certain that Cole is hurt, the fogginess of sleep melts away quicker than ever, and he scrambles up on his hands and knees, next to Cole, who apparently has been trying to shove him awake. Hank gets stuck in the sleeping bag, kicking it off his feet and silently cursing before he can stop himself. His eyes have adjusted just a little to the darkness, enough so that he can see that both Cole and Michelle are awake.

"What's happened?" he asks, voice barely functioning. Cole is shaking. 

"I… I…" he tries, drying off his runny nose with the back of his hand, as Michelle rubs his arms from behind, uncertain of how to comfort her friend, but still trying. 

"It's okay, it happens to my little sister sometimes too," she whispers, and that's when Hank smells the urine. Now he knows why his own pants are wet and cold- Cole has peed himself. He’s never done this before, not since he was a baby. Somewhere in the back of Hank’s mind, he can read the letters of a parenthood forum, one that explains the psychology behind children developing anxiety and the effects it might have.

Fuck.

One of the hardest parts of being a single parent is that he can't drop his mask in situations like this - even though he'd like to just sigh and complain and just find his way through the dark to his car and drive straight home, he has to suck it up, and do his best to not traumatize his poor son for life. 

"Did you have a bad dream, honey?" He asks, and when Cole doesn't tell him off for using that nickname in front of his friend, he knows he has to really parent up. "Hey, It's okay sweetheart. Like Michelle says, it happens. Is your PJ shirt wet as well?" He keeps his voice even, doing his damndest to be calm and kind, knowing Cole needs that from him. Cole sniffs, and shakes his head. 

"No, just the pants and um. The bed. I woke up b-before I got all of it out." 

Yeah, one swipe of his palm against the bed tells him that they're not going to sleep in that bag tonight. Hank scrubs a hand over his face, stops himself from sighing, and starts to gather up the bag. His own clothes - well, Connor's clothes - are the only ones he has right now, but Cole's got a pair of sweatpants and underwear in his bag. 

All right, first they’ve got to get Cole out to relieve himself before they decide what to do with the bedding. Cole comes out with him, shaking from the cold, or perhaps from humiliation, and as soon as he’s done, he presses close to Hank’s side, terrified of the darkness in the woods.

Once Cole’s changed into his dry clothes, Hank remembers that there's no extra sleeping gear for them, and he has just enough time to start panicking before Michelle pipes up, "Do you wet your bed often Cole?"

Seriously?

Hank is ready to step in, and tell Michelle to shut her mouth - in a not so hostile way, but when Cole shakes his head and mumbles, “No, never,” she grins and waves her hand, much to his surprise.

“Aw, well then it’s no worries! My mom says you’re only a bed wetter if you pee yourself every night, but if you only do it once, you’ll never do it! So you don’t have to worry!”

Hank turns that statement over and over in his head, and decides that it’s the sort of child’s logic that makes perfect sense - if you can sort out what the hell they mean.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because Cole carefully smiles at her now.

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally! You can sleep with me, if you'd like." She scoots over in her own sleeping bag, and Hank immediately sees a shift in Cole's form. 

“But I’m gross,” he says.

“Dean is gross - he picks his nose!” Michelle answers, and bursts into laughter at her own brilliant humor.

Cole visibly perks up at that. Briefly, Hank wonders if feeling bitter about a child comforting his son better than him is okay. Of course, he shoves that thought away when Cole stops crying, and almost looks like he wants to shove Hank out of the tent. Crawling in next to Michelle, he immediately seems to forget that he was devastated one minute ago. Chattering away like a pair of monkeys. They’re clearly not tired anymore, and Hank takes that as his cue to leave, if he's gonna get _any_ sleep tonight.

Satisfied that his son doesn't have to freeze to death, Hank gets up to hang the wet clothes outside, suppressing a shiver as he is hit by the chilly air outside the tent. 

"All right, you two stay in here, I'll hang the bag outside."

"What? What if someone sees tomorrow?" Cole asks, sounding like he just remembered that Hank is there. "I don't want them to know."

Hank does sigh then, unable to stop himself and getting just a bit tired of the whole situation.

"We'll say that I spilled the water bottle in the tent, all right? Or that it was me who did the deed. It's all right."

Cole relaxes just a little, and he lies back again, shoulder to shoulder with Michelle. "But Dad, where are you sleeping?" 

Hank hasn't thought of _that_ , yet. He shrugs. "I might just stay up and watch over the camp, kids."

"You need to sleep… Mr Anderson," Michelle adds, scandalized at Hank's insinuation and putting on her big sister-voice, yet at the last second remembering that Hank is a grown-up and she isn’t his child. 

"Don't worry, I'm a cop. Have been awake for 24 hours before. But thanks for the concern," Hank says. "G'night, kids."

If he was worried about Cole, he isn't anymore. He has barely zipped down the tent opening before he hears Cole and Michelle whisper to each other again.

It's good to know he has a friend here, he thinks. Hank should probably try to get to know her parents as well, see if they can arrange a playdate.

He can barely stand up straight, too cold and tired by now, his muscles seizing up uncomfortably. Maybe he needs to go for a walk until the sun starts coming up. It could be hours before sunrise, and he can’t see shit.

He finds North sitting by the fire that's been reduced to glowing bricks. She sees the sleeping bag and tilts her head, and when he doesn’t answer, she interrupts his thoughts, standing up and taking the bag from him.

"I can take these. You're just gonna hurt yourself, trying to navigate in the dark." Hank wants to insist on doing it himself, but his phone flashlight could help, but it's not that strong anyway. He reluctantly lets North take them. "Is your son all right?" She asks, tension in her voice. 

"I think so. He was pretty shaken up, but he seems okay now. Michelle let him sleep in her bag."

North nods. "They're both good kids."

Hank chuckles, unable to absorb the small praise. "Yeah, they are."

"You can take my sleeping bag in mine and Connor’s tent, if you'd like," she adds while gathering up the fabric to hang over a tree branch that Hank can barely make out in the dark.

"You don't have to offer me a sleeping bag," he tries, feebly as she pretty much shoves him towards the tent that’s a bit off from the camp, just far enough that he can’t make it out beyond a silhouette.

"No, go ahead. I don't need to sleep tonight," she insists. 

"I need to stay close to check on my son."

"He's fine," North assures him. “I'll keep an eye out. Besides, he seems to be doing fine." She gestures with a nod towards the tent, from which loud giggles can be heard. "Get some sleep, Hank. You look like you need it," she finally says, then stills, as if listening to something only she can hear. "And tell Connor he can go to sleep, please. It's good if one of us is fully rested.”

With that, North sits down again, poking at the red glow of the fire. As Hank slowly opens her and Connor’s tent, he wonders just how much the android can see beyond the low light emanating from the fire. Her eyes are alert and wide, and her head shifts as she watches... whatever it is she’s seeing. 

The image of Hank’s childhood cat pops into his mind, the way it would sit down and stare at a blank wall and meow for an hour, like there was a ghost on the other side.

The way in which the androids are so human-like, yet in some ways so utterly alien… It’s fascinating.

Hank carefully unzips the flaps to the tent, grunting when he notices that the ceiling is too short for him to do much but crawl through. If not for the fact that he's so goddamn fucking tired, he would feel nervous about sharing space with Connor this close, but now he just can't wait to crawl into bed.

He can’t see Connor, but he hears him shift in his covers. 

“Mr Anderson?” Connor mumbles, and Hank is momentarily taken aback by how human he sounds, like he just literally woke up. A moment later, there’s a weak light as Connor lights a small lamp between the beds.

“Uh, I- North told me I could take her bedroll,” he says, his face reddening. 

Connor is quiet for a few seconds, too quiet. Then Hank jumps as he sits up and pokes his-Connor’s- pants, almost at the juncture of his thigh, and puts the tip of his finger on his tongue.

“Cole wet the bed, and now you can’t use your bedroll.” It’s not a question, and he looks so good on his knees there that Hank’s almost ready to drop what just happened. But he can’t let that go.

“Did-Did you just,” Hank says with a grimace. Connor winces, his LED blinking yellow. It spins for a moment, then Connor squeaks,

“I’m an investigative model.”

“An investigative model.”

“I can sample evidence through my mouth in real-time. It is a time saving feature for police work. Well, was.”

Hank snorts. “You couldn’t have just asked me about it? Or smelled it?” Connor looks so embarrassed now, and Hank just laughs. “That’s so gross, Connor.”

“Shut up, it’s a force of habit,” Connor mutters as he scoots away to let Hank in. “Get in. You must be freezing.” As Hank crawls inside the tent, Connor continues, “ I take it that Cole feels better now?”

Hank scoffs. “Yeah, he could barely wait to kick me out.” He thinks about Cole’s mood lifting earlier. “Might as well. I could barely breathe in our sleeping bag.”

“I have another pair of pants,” Connor says before Hank has time to lie back.

“God, Connor. I’m fine,” Hank waves him off, but Connor is already up and scrounging through his backpack, digging up a pair of sweatpants. He throws them at Hank, who begrudgingly accepts them. Ever the gentleman, Connor turns his head as Hank kicks off the wet pants and wiggling into the new pair. “Spoil me,” he grouses, but he can’t quite stop the smile on his face. “You bring an entire wardrobe with you?” 

“One needs to come prepared,” Connor smirks. “Lucky, for you.”

“Thanks,” Hank mumbles. The pants are thankfully very loose, or they would be on Connor’s lithe frame, and on Hank’s body they’re just a little tight around the waist. He shucks his jeans outside and climbs underneath the sheets, sighing in contentment to finally be lying down again.

\--

Hank tries to fall asleep, once again listening to the sounds outside, but he is distracted by the various sounds of Connor’s body. They’re not bothersome, just… Different. Connor’s breathing is drier, more evened out. He doesn’t smack his lips, or groan, or yawn, but his body chirps, grinds, whirrs. It’s surprisingly soothing, he thinks groggily. 

It’s very late now, and he is exhausted. He should go to sleep.

He turns onto his side, propping up on his elbow.

"So, how did you land this gig?"

Connor doesn’t seem to have been asleep, and he turns to him, answering his question like they were right in the middle of a conversation.

“Oh, well. The owner of these cub groups is pretty progressive,” Connor hums, looking at something as if he’s pondering the question. “And I desperately needed another job, beside my volunteer work at New Jericho.”

“You couldn’t get back on the force?” Hank asks, though he can predict the answer. 

“I probably could. I don’t think I’d want to,” Connor sighs. “It was… Not a pleasant experience.” Hank huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, I can imagine. Do you like the job so far?”

God, is he fucking making smalltalk with Connor?

"It's not so bad." 

"Really."

"Apart from the overbearing and homophobic parents."

Hank raises his eyebrows, a silent "go on". Connor turns onto his back, letting out a loud sigh. 

"They keep assuming that I'll harm their children, because of my species," Connor explains. "And because… Well, because I'm homosexual. If androids can use the same terminology as humans."

"Oh." Hank’s thoughts stutter at that bit of information. 

Truth is, he hasn’t really assumed that androids would care to use those words. Talking about their preferences makes androids feel… fucking human. Hank just assumed that androids didn’t have romantic preferences, but maybe that’s a bit backward thinking. He feels bad for Connor. To deal with homophobia on top of the hatred towards androids that still permeates Detroit. "Fuck. I'm sorry you gotta deal with that. I somehow keep forgetting that people still take issues with it." He’s had his fair share of bigotry thrown his way, sure, but he has been pretty much spared throughout his life as few people have dared to mess with him. 

Connor however, could feel like an easy target for idiots, he thinks.

"Just the few. It's all right." Connor smiles, a strained stretch across his features. “And most of them are just curious, which is fine.”

“I mean, it’s just ridiculous that people care who you’re into,” Hank sighs. “I don’t meet couples on the street and start harassing them over what they may or may not be doing in bed.”

“You speak like you’ve encountered these kinds of people before?” Connor prompts, his elbow propped up on his pillow..

“Yeah, well, I lived through the nineties,” Hank says. “And, well. I’m. I’m bi. I wasn’t very popular in the straight or gay scene for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Val and Chad giving you a hard time?”

Connor frowns, and Hank can see his LED spinning red for a short moment. 

“They’ve seen other models of my line in… magazines, and apparently I’m too ‘out and proud’ for their tastes, I guess.”

“Jesus.” Hank doesn’t know what else to say, lying back as he thinks through what Connor’s saying.

“Did you know right away that you were bi?” Connor asks, and Hank mulls it over.

“Uh, no. Or well, I guess I did, but there wasn’t really a word for it when I was a kid - no word that people used frequently. I thought I was gay in my teens, but then I met Heather Jordan and knew that I couldn’t give up on ladies, you know? But it was a journey, to understand who and what I liked, I guess.”

Connor hums in response, clearly thinking about what he just said.

Hank has been out for a while, and while he doesn't advertise his orientation, he's not hiding either. And Connor seems to be finding his way through this new world of possibilities and new stuff to make autonomous choices about. It can’t be easy to navigate these feelings and the way humans act around them. 

Hank’s about to fall asleep again, when Connor finally opens his mouth.

"I've been experimenting with North, a few times, actually."

"Huh?" Hank grunts, because he's halfway asleep and also not following.

"She's invited me to Markus a few times, when we're home and bored. Most of us have limited physical understanding of any human-like sexual needs, and it feels safer to explore them with friends."

The words get stuck in Hank's brain, played again and again on a loop.

"You're saying… That you guys meet up for threesomes?"

Connor smirks again, probably monitoring the jump in Hank's pulse.

"Actually, Josh and Simon are there too."

"Holy fuck," Hank whistles, letting out a breathless laugh. He should feel mortified by this conversation but somehow the fact that it's Connor telling him about this, its…. It's pretty fitting. Why would androids be as shy about sex as humans? "Fucking... Good for you," he manages.

Connor frowns. "I realize I probably shouldn't have said that. People think we're strange enough without…"

"Hey, I think, after all the crap that Cyberlife put you through, you deserve whatever makes you guys happy," Hank says with conviction, refusing to let Connor feel bad about telling him, even as he feels the heat on his cheeks.

Connor seems to relax a little, and when Hank thinks it's time to go back to sleep, "Have you been in a threesome, Hank?"

\---

Connor jumps out of stasis 40 minutes later, according to the timer ticking down in the corner of his HUD - three hours early. 

Why?

Soft snoring permeates the fog while his systems come back online, a dull white noise next to him. Hank Anderson is still in the tent beside him.

Shit. 

A message pops up - It's North, practically yelling at him to wake up. 

_Those fucking pricks!_ A new message says. 

When Connor crawls out of the tent, he finds himself surprised to see the parents awake and up, as well as all of the children - eyes wide and darting between North and Valerie. A warning flashes red across his HUD, pointing out the fact that there's a ridiculously large jeep approximately 500 ft away. He should have heard the engine that big at that distance. Just how lagging are his systems right now, to let him miss these potential threats? Before he can stop himself, he scans the people's faces - Jesse's father, Roy Gordon, and… Connor shivers out of dread - Sue.

North stands ramrod straight, a diplomatic smile on her face, even as she keeps sending secondhand death threats via Connor. 

"What's happening here?" Connor asks mildly, standing up to his full height. 

Roy speaks up first, his voice obnoxiously loud and deep. "It's our Little spooky surprise for the kids! A fun and scary walk through the dark woods, buahaha!" He croaks, twisting his flashlight right under his face and delighting in the way a pair of boys recoil. "Look, I used to love this sh- stuff, as a kid, it'll be such a fun memory when they're older."

North looks placantly at the children and parents, but inside she is cursing up a storm, letting Connor hear every single word of it.

“And when did you inform us of this event?” Connor inquires, struggling to keep his tone even. He knows that the parents haven’t been pleased about sending their children away with androids, but this takes the cake. 

_I didn't know this is what they planned_ , he tries, but North is not convinced.

_They've conducted this stupid halloween hunt, as if wandering around in the woods at night ever was a good idea._

_You knew?_

_Of course not!_ North spits _._

"I understand that you're trying to make this night memorable for all of us," North says with a stiff smile towards Roy, "But I must advise against this. The kids are too young for ‘ghost hunting’ in the middle of the night. And it's pretty inappropriate to do this without either of our express permission."

"Permission?" Sue sneers. "Seriously, I think we know children better than you do."

 _This is the way they're gonna fire us, North_ hisses. _They'll never let us work here again when they find out we've scared the kids to death!_

 _So we'll tell Celia that it was the parents,_ Connor says, though he knows that's not how it works, and he feels nauseous.

 _They'll twist it into something. It'll look like it's our fault._ North sounds miserable. 

Connor hears Hank come up beside them, having heard people raising their voices outside and struggled out of the tent. 

Sue and Roy give Hank a quick once over, and fuck it, Connor is _so_ getting fired. 

“What the hell is going on?” Hank mumbles, his voice gravelly, and Connor wishes the circumstances were different, that he could enjoy the lovely texture of that voice.

Connor turns to him, but before he can answer, Colleen comes up behind them and tugs on North’s sweater. She says in a shivering voice to her,

"I can't find Michelle."

Sue comes over to her, bends down and with a sing-songy voice says, "Oh no, wherever could she be? You better talk to the ghost over there." She points to another parent, Chad, standing on the beach with a white sheet on his head. 

The kids look over at the ghost - some of them look terrified and press close to North and Connor, but quite a few have mostly been annoyed by the parents waking them up and unafraid of the dark, they wander over to the ghost, muttering about ‘waking us up in the middle of the night’.

Connor finds the child that Sue is referring to - it's not Michelle. _Lisa_ is hiding in the small wind shelter on the edge of the beach with a cup of hot cocoa and Candy corn. Sue barely remembers the kids' names, he realizes in annoyance.

Valerie, however, seems to notice the same thing as Connor, and to her credit the color drains from her face as she looks around to find the girl.

"Colleen, why don't you join the others by the ghost," Hank says, and while he looks calm and sure, Connor senses the rise in his pulse, the anxious pull of his heart. He knows something is wrong.

"I saw Cole and Michelle run off!" Jesse says, or rather, shouts. He points in the direction away from the stream where they've put up camp, into the woods, covered in rocky terrain and slippery moss. Just like that, Connor’s systems come up to full speed as he follows the direction of Jesse’s pointed finger. The children have gone to meet Chad the ghost, and Connor stays still. Hank breathes deeply through his nose, his stress levels rising alarmingly quick, and Connor finds that he needs to find Cole and Michelle as quickly as possible.

While Sue and Roy spit vitriol at them, Connor decides to ignore them in favor of investigating. He considers the possible motives behind Cole and Michelle’s disappearance.

They could have been out of bed to get up to mischief, which is unlikely as both of them are well behaved children. If they were out to pee they would have talked to North first, and besides, Cole had just gone. 

The most likely scenario is that they got scared and ran from the camp, though Connor’s not sure why they’ve run so far that he can’t even register them. 

“I’m sorry,” North mumbles in Hank’s direction. “I didn’t notice them leaving, I was too busy confronting these bastards,” she adds with a nod towards the parents, who have now trotted over to the children, flashlights in hand.

“I’m gonna go look for them,” Hank says, rolling his no doubt stiff shoulders, but Connor puts a hand on his warm, well-defined chest. 

“No way, I’m going. You can barely see in the dark, and you’re cold.”

Hank scowls. “Gonna get colder if I just stay here. It’s my son out there, and I’m a fucking detective.” He moves to the side to pass him.

“I’m an investigative prototype,” Connor says, repeating their previous conversation. “I have nocturnal vision, I can scan the place and find clues that you’ll never see.”

Hank stares at him, corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

“Jeez, both of you go,” North groans. “I’ll hold down the fort, even if I have to kill the parents.”

\---

“I can’t see fucking shit,” Hank swears, keeping one arm steadily in front of him, so as to not crash into anything. They have been walking far enough that the fire doesn’t give them much light anymore. He holds up the flashlight by his head, doing his best to go forward. Connor hesitates, then opens his mouth.

“I have an internal flashlight installed, if that’s all right. It’s brighter and wider than the one you’re using now.”

“Fuck. Yeah, sure,” Hank says, spreading his hand as if to say, “go on”.

A second later, he yelps in surprise when both of Connor’s eyes light up - literally. They’re about as strong as headlights on a car, casting shadows on the trees around them. Connor’s eyes look like a cat’s when they reflect light, and it’s fucking terrifying. He seems to notice Hank’s surprise and tones the light down. “Sorry, haven’t used this in a while.”

“No kiddin’,” Hank wheezes, out of breath from the sheer fright this caused him.

Connor adjusts the intensity and range of the weird eye-flashlight, and it does help Hank see a little better.

In truth, he doesn’t really know how to find his kid - Cole could have run miles away from here, or he could have hidden in a bush right by the camp. Sheer terror twists in his gut, threatening to upend the contents in his stomach. How is his poor child ever going to heal from this, he thinks.

Connor stops abruptly, his LED yellow as he checks the environment. Hank tilts his head. “Found something?” he asks, pressing down the hope in his chest. Connor frowns, his cat-like eyes narrowing. 

“Maybe.”

He bends down towards a patch of moss, and swipes his hand over it. Bringing it to his lips, he opens his mouth and lets the fingers press against his tongue - and why does that look so hot? 

“There’s an android out here,” Connor says, confusion in his voice. “They’ve left a trail of thirium on the ground.” 

Hank leans over to inspect the moss, but he can’t see shit. “There’s nothing there, Connor.”

“It’s not visible to the naked eye,” Connor explains. “But it leaves a trail that androids can pick up on.”

That’s pretty fucking impressive.

“And it’s not yours or North’s?”

“No,” Connor frowns. “No, we’ve never been in these parts, and it belongs to a WR600.”

"Think they'll know where Cole and Michelle are?"

"I don't know. Hopefully."

He scrunches his nose, in thought, then his eyes snap forwards. Still bent forward, he shuffles towards whatever it is he’s seeing. Hank’s heart skips uncomfortably when he sees the small droplets of red against the stone. Connor samples this as well, and when he doesn’t answer right away, Hank feels his knees give in as he almost collapses on the ground.

“Cole’s.”


	4. There's a place called home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank go looking for Michelle and Cole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of last chapter is actually loosely inspired by an old sleepover weekend at my karate club as a kid. The instructor was a young guy who thought it'd be funny to have him and the older members pretend that the club was being attacked and robbed in the middle of the night. I was 7 and heard slamming and people shouting, and what I remember was that I was terrified, and then sitting in one of the halls huddled together with the other kids while the instructor ashamedly explained that it was a joke. My older sibling and their friends were rolling their eyes, simply pissed that he had woken them up, while 7 year old me cried on the floor.   
> Lemme tell you that that instructor was waaay nicer to me after that.

This is not how Connor imagined the night would go.

He went into stasis knowing that Hank was in the same tent as him, that Hank didn’t think Connor was weird. It was a marvel to listen to all the noises that Hank while sleeping, the very human sounds that his body created automatically. 

He and Hank had connected - talked, talked in a way that Connor’s never talked before, at least with a human.

If his scans were correct, and they probably were, Connor had detected signs of attraction in Hank, especially as Connor crawled over on his knees to sample whatever had been staining Hank’s jeans. Of course, Connor didn’t think it would be his son’s urine, rather something like dirt or rain. 

It did put a damper on Hank’s further reactions to him, but the dilated pupils, the rise of hormones connected to sexual attraction… It had opened so many possibilities - an actual chance of Connor daring to ask him out without fear of being rejected. When Connor went into stasis, he did so imagining how he was going to do it, and how soon would be socially acceptable.

It all seems pretty unlikely at this point.

Now they’re stomping through a dark forest with nothing but flashlights and Connor’s senses guiding them. It takes a while to even get a small distance away from camp - While Connor can navigate around branches and overgrown tree roots, Hank needs guidance to avoid falling over and hurting himself. 

Whoever has Cole and Michelle could be long gone by now.

Connor monitors Hank's reaction carefully as they tread over an elevated part. 

Hank hasn’t said anything of substance since they found the traces. It took less than a second for his pulse to quicken, the beat of his heart visible in his neck. 

Cole, and possibly Michelle, hurt. And an android is involved. Whoever they are, they could have found the children and wanted to help - though if that's the case, they should have already been back at camp.

Making another effort to reach out to the other android, wherever they may be, Connor stops in his tracks, and focuses on what little connection there is out here. Meanwhile Hank leans against the trunk of a tree, arms crossed and breath heavy. Despite his gruff exterior, his face is drained of colour and there’s something haunted in his eyes.

Right. It's not just that it's Cole. It's Hank's son.

"I'm sure they're all right," Connor tries, again. "Androids rarely lay hands on children. And there is a chance that whoever it is doesn't know that there's a camp up ahead."

Pretending like Hank doesn't know the exact number of instances where androids have attacked human children, Connor puts as much conviction in his voice as he can muster, without sounding too cheery.

Hank stares at him. The lights emanating from Connor's eyes reflect in Hank's eyes, which are shiny now. He takes a ragged breath in, letting the air out slowly and steadily. Then he nods to himself and pushes off of the trunk.

"All right. Where did they go then?"

"You okay? You can still go back--"

"I'm fine," Hank snaps.

“... Okay,” Connor eventually manages and turns back to the path. There’s a trace of thirium that is fairly easy to spot and follow - either they’re heading into a trap or the android wasn’t aware that they were hurt. If the android is hostile, and there is that risk, they haven’t got much to protect Hank with. Judging by the lightness in the too big leather jacket that Connor keeps on, Hank didn’t bring his gun. Why would he have?

Hank seems to have read his mind.

“We’ll need to be careful when we find them,” he grumbles. “If there’s more than one-”

“I’ll protect you,” Connor blurts. Hank looks back at him with raised eyebrows, and for a moment a crooked smile replaces the grim line of his lips.

“I can take care of myself,” he says. 

“Yes, but others have more to lose if you die rather than if I do. So I’ll protect  _ you. _ ” It’s just a matter of fact - Hank has to think about Cole. Hank is a police lieutenant who leads the android crime department in Detroit. There is far more to lose if he is compromised. 

It should be easy for him to connect those dots, but Hank just stares at Connor for a moment. 

“Right.” Connor clears his throat, a distinctly human response that comes automatically, despite not serving any purpose for his body.

Now that things feel adequately awkward, he resolutely turns his eyes back to the thirium trace. There’s a long, quiet pause now, where neither of them say anything. Connor feels bad. 

He’s not sure why, but he does. 

While the moon is visible and shedding some light on the treetops, There isn’t enough light for a human to make out anything beyond the flashlight. Connor can use his built in sensors to navigate through the darkness, scanning the area and finding where to put his feet. The light coming from his eyes and Hank’s phone’s flashlight cast shadows on the ground. The silhouettes of the naked trees and skeleton-like branches would probably scare him, if he was human. As it is, he simply observes the shift in the wildlife - the way nocturnal animals peek out of their hideouts, sniffing around and sneaking across the ground. Beyond that and his impaired sight, the night doesn’t affect Connor all that much. 

The darkness does set off something in humans, something primal that kicks in, millennia of evolution that have spiked their senses. He glances at Hank, who keeps scowling even as his pulse beats against his skin, adrenaline-fueled perspiration hitting Connor’s nostrils. Though he looks stoic, Hank is just as keyed up as any human would be in his position - darkness means that something could be lurking in the shadows, ready to kill. Whether or not this is a logical fear in this day and age, humans still have this reaction. 

It’s difficult to ease his anxiety when Connor can’t even imagine what he’s feeling.

There should be something he can do. He should say something.

Hank gets there before him, sucking in a quick breath behind him. 

“Hey, I--” Hank starts, but then the both of them freeze - it seems that they both noticed the same thing. Hank moves his flashlight towards the road ahead, taking in the sight.

Coming up, there’s an old abandoned shed - Connor makes that deduction by the fact that there’s a hole in the roof, and the door has no lock on it. If he dials up his optical senses he can just about make out a faint red trace, like it used to be painted red, but the colors have melted off by the seasons. Yet, despite these observations, there’s something… off about it. He can’t quite figure out what is bothering him about this image. 

Then Hank takes a breath and leans close enough to whisper in Connor’s ear. 

“There’s smoke coming out of the chimney.”

He’s right. Someone is keeping a fire in there. The blackened windows do hint at movements and weak lighting inside. 

Making another attempt at picking up a signal, Connor concentrates on reaching out to whoever is in there. He thinks he can make out two small bodies in there - their temperatures are too low, but they seem to be breathing and… Talking? 

There’s more than one android in there, he realizes. They don’t seem hostile, but that might change if Connor and Hank just burst through. Connor would like to believe that it would be fine if he just knocked on the door, but the fact of the matter is that few androids accept him as one of their own. If they’re lucky they might recognize Hank from the news, but they might as well only blame him for every crime against androids that has slipped through the police’s fingers.

“There’s at least three more androids in there,” Connor whispers, making sure none of the entities inside will hear him. 

“Shit,” Hank hisses, and Connor can see him instinctively reaching for his gun that isn’t in his jacket pocket.

“We’ll have to go about this carefully,” Connor says, slowly coming closer towards the door. Hank follows, making surprisingly few sounds as they tread closer. 

That’s when Connor notices the sensors installed right by the door. He is about to warn Hank and motion for him to back away, when the movement sensors activate on the area around the shed, and both of them stand in the middle of what feels like giant spotlights. 

Now there’s shuffling inside, as every single android has been alerted of their visitors. 

“How do they get electricity out here?” Is the only coherent sentence coming out of Connor’s mouth before they rush into the shed, worried that the androids might make a move and run away if they don’t hurry.

Inside, it’s actually as rundown and smelly as Connor suspected, but there are candles and a small lamp in the ceiling, enough for Hank’s eyes to make out the inside. 

The androids are not in this small room, but Connor sees Cole and Michelle huddled together by a sad looking hearth, a blanket over their bodies. They look ok, given the circumstances, and Connor feels whatever tension floating between him and Hank evaporates. The kids are okay.

“Cole!” Hank calls from the door, and both children look up in surprise. “Michelle! Jesus, we were so worried about you!” He sounds like he’s just found the children hiding in the basement, not like they have been missing in the middle of the woods.

Going by Hank’s adrenaline levels, Connor suspects Hank is still worried sick, but now that he has found his son he has to make sure that Cole knows his dad is going to make things ok again. Cole sniffs, his eyes wide and spilling with tears.

“Daddy! I cut my arms!” he calls across the room.

“What are you doing here?” Connor asks, needing more information. “Where are the others?”

“We’re here,” a small voice answers as four different androids come in through another door - they’re hunched, watching Hank and Connor with frightened eyes, and Connor thinks he might be able to work this out. None of them seem hostile, despite their refusal to open a communication passage with Connor. 

One of the androids opens their mouths.

"We couldn't let them go back before speaking to you," she says. "If they returned to the other humans and told them that they'd seen a lone android in the woods, they would have found us and maybe hurt us."

"We've found you now, though.” Hank’s voice carries through, even as his knees are shaking. “And we’re not leaving without the kids.” Connor can ascertain the way Hank instinctively reaches for his gun again, before probably realizing that they’re unarmed against four androids.

"But now we have leverage. And we can talk,” another one says, the tallest among them. “We’re not here to hurt the kids, but… We can’t let you tell others about our hideout.”

"What if we’d called for backup, or called the cops?" Connor presses on while scanning their faces to place where they come from. The android huffs.

“Ralph told you, he told you they would hurt us,” another in the back mutters. The other android quiets him. 

Cole and Michelle stare at them, but they don’t look afraid. So the androids haven’t been hurting them. Connor sees that as a win -the less traumatized they are, the better.

"They probably wouldn't. I may not like the RK800 models, but he still is one of us.”

That comment takes Connor aback, lowering his guard for a moment. No androids besides the ones in Jericho talks about Connor with kindness - and most of the androids are kind to him because Markus would disapprove if they weren’t. 

“All right, so what now?” Hank asks, inching closer to the kids has he talks. Michelle helps Cole get up from the floor, ready to go to him. The twitchy robot notices and scrambles over to the three of them, raising a sad looking, rusty knife. It makes the children flinch, stepping back a few steps while Hank holds up his palms in retreat.

“They won’t listen,” the android says. “Ralph knows, Ralph knows the humans don’t trust us.”

“I just wanna make sure my son and his friend are all right,” Hank continues calmly, still standing with his hands in front of himself and slowly positioning himself between the children and Ralph-

Ralph. The android that talks of himself in third person. There's a gash across his face like someone has slashed him, still not healed. That’s when Connor remembers this android.

It was on one of Connor's first investigations. He was looking for an AX400 named Kara, who had run off with a girl. There was evidence that Ralph was hiding them in the abandoned house, but Connor hadn't found them. If Ralph remembers Connor, he doesn't show it. 

“Ralph,” the androids try, looking exasperated at him. It gives Ralph pause and he lowers his knife. Cole lets out a small sob, and Hank’s hands twitch as he hears it. The larger android, the one who has been trying to negotiate with them, continues. “They’re not gonna trust either of us if you keep swinging that around.”

"Ralph didn't mean to cause trouble," he mumbles, hunched over like Connor might hit him. Then Cole pipes up.

"I got hurt," he says again, showing his forearms to Hank and Connor. They're wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through. The fabric is relatively clean, but the gashes underneath don’t look too good. "Ralph helped us. But he didn’t want to go back to camp." He looks at Hank with big, pleading eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“We’re sorry we ran away,” Michelle says, sounding more worried that she’ll get into trouble for that. “There were murderers outside,” she says, voice dying as she says it. Of course, she didn’t know who the car belonged to, she couldn’t know who were approaching the camp in the middle of the night.

“It wasn’t,” Hank says softly. “It was two other parents. They were going to surprise you.”

“Oh.” Michelle breathes out, and she somewhat relaxes, just a little.

Satisfied that Hank is focusing on Michelle, Connor turns his attention to Ralph.

"How did you get here?"

"The children were scared. Ralph saw them running. The small one was losing blood from falling and needed care. Ralph didn't know they belonged to someone. He didn't do anything wrong."

“So what now?” the large android asks. “Are you gonna turn us in?” There’s a challenge in his voice, and Connor can tell when someone is forcing themselves to be brave, to not let others see how scared they are. 

“If you let us take the kids back without fighting, then I don’t see why we should let others know. As long as you don’t make this a habit.” Connor doesn’t know why he says this, because the truth of the matter is that Ralph kidnapped two children, and the other androids agreed to keep them here as ransom. Perhaps the venom with which most androids treat him affects him more than he cares to admit, and perhaps one android treating him like an equal, and not like a snake in the grass, means something to him now. Hank doesn’t comment, doesn’t add that Connor isn’t the cop here, that he has no business making this call. 

“Okay,” the android says, nodding towards Hank, who immediately drops his guard and rushes down onto his knees to catch the children into a crushing hug. Both of them sob, burrowing into Hank’s shoulders, and Hank holds on for dear life, letting one big teardrop fall across his face. The androids watch the humans for a moment, something akin to longing, or perhaps envy, in their expressions. 

While Hank carefully examines Coles forearms and the scratch on Michelle’s face, softly comforting them on the floor, Connor turns his attention to the androids.

"How have you survived this long?" he asks. "There's no tech out here, no resources. How are you still standing?" He takes a long look at them, taking in the bumps and gashes all over their skin. They can’t be properly functioning anymore. 

"Ralph is slowly shutting down. Ralph fled when the humans came to his home. He needs biocomponents, but he doesn't want the humans to find him."

“We have been sharing thirium with each other, shutting down any unnecessary processes.”

“That’s not a lasting solution, though.”

“We can’t go back to society, RK800,” one of them says.

“Connor,” Connor corrects automatically. “I didn’t catch your names.”

“Seth,” the large one says. “The others haven’t picked their own names yet,” he continues with a gesture towards the others hiding behind him. Then his lips twitch. “Ralph notwithstanding.”

“I see. Well, I think you’re aware of the fact that you’re in need of upgrades.”

“We can’t afford it,” Seth says. “And there’s no place for us out there. They’ll kill us if they find us.”

“There’s Jericho,” Connor says. “Markus has carved out space in Detroit for androids in desperate need of help. Cyberlife has agreed to lease apartments for those who wish to share rooms with other androids, and they’re all overseen by Markus and his closest people. You can get help there.”

“We can’t leave, we’ll attract too much attention.” Seth nods towards Ralph, and Connor sees his point. It’s going to be difficult getting Ralph to Jericho without starting something. 

He feels, rather than sees, his own hand peeling its synth skin off, revealing the white underneath. Seth notices as well, eyes twitching as well as his own hand. A prompt pops up across his HUD.

_ New gate open. AP700 4532-000 located. _

_ Begin interface? _

_ [Y/N] _

Seth’s hand reaches out for Connor’s, seemingly on its own volition, since he looks just as surprised as Connor is.

It's been a while since he has connected to an android in this fashion but there's comfort in it, the way a hug might be calming for a touch starved human. Seth allows him to see parts of how he got here, the other androids who left the camps and found his hideout in the woods. 

In turn, Connor opens a passage for Seth to partake in some of his own memories -the human police, the memories of Amanda and the zen garden, the moment where Markus opened his eyes to who he really was. 

Then Connor transfers one last piece of information - the location of Markus' new Jericho building.

"What did you do?" Michelle asks, eyes wide. She is watching them closely, looking utterly fascinated.

Connor doesn’t answer her, doesn’t know what to say, really. How to explain to another species what this means is beyond his capabilities at the moment. 

“Jericho,” Seth murmurs. “I thought it was a myth, that the revolution wasn’t real. I was in a camp, watching…” he trails off, glancing at the children whose attention has been turned to them. He hesitates. “Watching the other androids. And now you’re telling me… That there actually is a place where we can be safe?”

The others behind Seth let out surprised laughs, breathy things that seem to carry so much emotion behind them.

“Listen,” Connor says, making eye contact with the others, “I have a friend at camp, North. She is Markus’ closest ally. We can meet up here tomorrow, and she’ll be able to take you to Markus.”

The timid android’s eyes light up. “You mean we get to meet… Markus?”

Connor has known Markus for a while now, has been allowed into his closest circle of friends. He keeps forgetting how much Markus truly means to other androids.

“You will,” he smiles.

\---

They finally head back to camp, Michelle riding on Connor’s back and Cole walking behind them, holding onto Hank’s hand. The children are exhausted, most noticeable in the way Cole stumbles every other step, but they seem as okay as they can be. Michelle talks about Ralph, how he twitched when he walked them to the shed, and wonders if he’ll be all right. 

She asks if Connor will have to tell her parents that she ran off in the middle of the night, and Connor explains that he doesn’t have much saying in the matter. When she starts to shiver, Connor stops to take off his - Hank’s - jacket and wrap her in it. It’s comically large on her, but it keeps her warm the rest of the way back. 

Hank interrogates Cole over the evening, asking why he ran off and why he even considered following Ralph in the first place - worry followed by relief has melted away into fear that Cole might do something like this again. Cole answers gladly, going into detail over how he tripped on a rock and tore up his skin on broken glass on the ground, until Michelle makes a disgusted noise and begs him to stop talking about it. 

Hank tells him that he must never, ever under any circumstances follow a stranger anywhere, and Cole nods as if he understands any implication of what Hank’s saying. As it is now, Cole seems more perturbed about his wounds than of the fact that he was held hostage by androids, which might just be coming from shock - what happened tonight will probably need to be addressed on many occasions from now on.

\---

It’s not that long until they see the camp, or maybe he just can’t keep track of for how long they’ve been gone. North picks up his signal and practically yells at him to explain what the fuck happened, to which he calmly assures her that he’ll tell her everything when they have the time. 

He can feel Chad’s disapproving glare at him and Hank, and Connor almost asks him what the hell his problem is, until he remembers that Hank is wearing Connor’s clothes, which is painfully obvious in the light of the campfire. Combined with the fact that they crawled out of the same tent an hour earlier… It might give the wrong impression.

Connor is beyond caring at this point. He just saved two kids and four androids, yet he knows that this night will have ruined any chance he had with this job. Even if Celia trusts him and North, the parents will never stand for this. And he finds that he doesn’t really give a shit anymore. He’s not as desperate as many other androids are - as the androids in the shed are. If he quits, then he can still return to Markus as an advisor.

So he meets Chad’s accusing stare with a raised eyebrow and proceeds to let Michelle down on the ground, wrapping her up in a bedcover.

The rest of the children are situated around North, close together where she has been doing her best to keep calm. They are singing songs and talking when Connor and Hank join them.

“What the hell happened?” one of the parents, Roy, demands, his obnoxiously loud voice echoing around them.

“I tripped!” Cole says, holding up his bandaged arms like they’re trophies. “And Connor gave me bandages!” 

“And we found an old shed!” Michelle reveals, keeping out the fact that there were androids there. If she understands that the androids will be in trouble if the parents know about them, she doesn’t show. It’s probably not the reason she opts to keep any androids out of her story, but Connor is grateful all the same that he doesn’t have to explain  _ that _ part to Sue and company.

Connor has no intention of lying to Michelle’s parents when he calls them, but telling Sue or any of the others in camp is not happening. He is thankful that both Michelle and Cole either seem to understand the importance of keeping the androids a secret for now, or are too keyed up to mention them.

With all of this drama unfolding, there is no way to get the kids back into their tents to sleep until morning, and anyway, Connor can see the faintest hint of a sunrise in the distance. In an attempt to make this night less traumatic for the participants, North claps her hands and asks who wants to go to bed now that everyone is back. When only two kids, who already seem like they’re about to nod off, raise their hands, she orders them back into their tents and asks the other children to drag their own sleeping covers outside so they can do some stargazing. Cole’s arms are examined by Valerie, who apparently is a nurse, and she gratefully accepts the first aid kit that Connor lends her while she checks if Cole needs stitches. 

“These are nicely done… Connor,” she says, a small, nervous smile on her face. Connor takes that as a win.

\----

And so, waiting until the sun carefully rises above the treetops, and the dew on the ground starts glittering in the morning light, North lies back with the children around her, telling them stories about the constellations in the sky. Michelle and Cole get to relay what happened to them a little, but they both seem much too interested in North’s story telling.

Connor sits back by the fire, concentrating on putting together a message for Markus that he will have to send as soon as there’s a signal.

He sees Hank hovering by the fire, as well. Chad and Valerie put the sleeping kids to bed, going back to sleep as well. Sue and Roy are moping in their own tent, quietly gossiping about Connor and North. They’re all alone now. Sort of.

“Hey,” Hank says, voice gravelly before he takes a swig of a water bottle. He sits down next to Connor, close enough that their shoulders touch, patting his knee twice. It sends a jolt of electricity down Connor’s spine, being completely unprepared for sudden body contact. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Connor breathes, still staring at his knee. He blinks away the warnings of overheating in his HUD. “Yeah. I’m just glad that Cole and Michelle are okay.” he coughs. “How are you holding up? You don’t look so… good,” he says before he can stop himself.

Hank hums. “Yeah, this is gonna take some therapy to get through, in my opinion.”

Connor huffs. “Don’t we all need therapy after tonight.”

“Probably before, too,” Hank mutters. Then something strange happens, where a tickle starts at the place where Connor’s lungs would be, if he had lungs. His abdomen tenses and he lets out a wheezing giggle, struggling to keep it low as he can’t seem to stop. 

It’s not funny, it is the opposite of funny, what happened tonight. But somehow, he can’t get the laughter bubbling inside of him to stop. It sends Hank off, too. Soon, they’re both struggling to breathe, giggling to themselves. Hank has to bend over at some point to catch his breath, which makes Connor laugh even more - because of the fact that his eyes automatically move to watch the sliver of skin beneath the too-short jacket peeking through as Hank’s shirt rides up. 

They’re alone for a long while, watching the fire and listening to North. Hank drinks more water.

“She’s good with the kids, that one,” he says with a smile.

“Don’t let her catch you saying that,” Connor chuckles. “She pretends that this is nothing more than a job to her, but I see it.”

“Yeah.” Hank purses his lips. “You’re good with them, too. You’re good with Cole.”

If Connor could blush, he absolutely would now. “Oh. Thank you.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, because this moment feels significant in a way that he can’t quite describe, so instead of adding to that sentence, he sits back and listens to the fire crackling, to Hank’s breaths, and thinks, once again, that this isn’t at all where he thought the night would go.


	5. When all is said and done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend is coming to an end, not nearly soon enough for Hank.

Hank is exhausted.

He is exhausted, tired and aching in every part of his body. And while the fire has helped him regain feeling in his fingertips, he wonders if he'll ever feel warm again.

There's no point leaving camp to trudge through the woods and climb into the car - the children only have one more activity after breakfast before it's time to go back. Hank would barely make it home before he'd have to go back to pick up Cole anyway, so he makes the most effort he can with his stiff limbs, helping the other parents pack up the children’s stuff.

The parents have been in a foul mood, all of them, since he and Connor returned to camp with Michelle and Cole in tow. Hank doesn’t get it, and he sure doesn’t care to find what got their fucking panties in a knot.

It’s quiet in the parents’ corner as they work to pack everything. Valerie complains a little about her back, but other than that, everyone is keeping their mouths shut. Hank likes it that way, feeling too grumpy and wrung out to do much else but mutter as he stuffs Cole’s backpack.

Connor and North are down by the beach, letting the children splash in the water with their rainwear and boots on. The children might not have slept more than a few hours, but one can hardly tell - all throughout the forest echoes their delighted shrieks and laughter. 

Cole seems to be as all right as one could hope. He hasn't mentioned the night yet, but he and Michelle are keeping close to each other, shrieking in delight as they see something in the water. 

Cole is alive, and perhaps not as scarred as Hank feared.

That’s all that matters, Hank thinks.

The sun is coming up, and the rays of light would help him warm up, if not for the fact that he’s too cold to even feel it. He shudders again, forcing the night’s events out of his mind - a tangle of fear, panic and confused attraction combined makes for a particular exhaustion. He looks over his shoulder at the children, just catching North in the middle of dumping a cup of water over Connor’s head.

It’s a testament to Hank’s state that he doesn’t focus on the drops sliding off his skin, the way his hair colors golden in the sun. 

Connor’s laughter carries over to camp. Hank does like that laugh. 

“Tsk,” Sue sneers. Hank turns to her, wondering if she can sense where his thoughts have been drifting, but she is focusing her gaze on North and Connor. “Fucking androids,” she mutters as she drops her child’s bag on the ground. It falls with a heavy thud, pine needles flying everywhere.

“Got a fucking prostitute and pedo to care for our kids, if I’d known--” Roy starts, and it takes a moment for Hank to catch up, to realize that they’re talking about Connor and North. His own misery completely forgotten, he listens to what they’re muttering about, thinking that both of the androids probably can hear them from here. 

Sue has managed to spur the others on. 

“Doesn’t it bother you, Lieutenant?” Sue asks, her voice too nice for the question she’s asking. 

"Bother me how?" Hank feels irritation prickle at his skin as he fights the urge to snap back at her. Sue shrugs with a nonchalant smile.

“Having androids to look after our children? Androids that are participating in such ellicit affairs?”

She pronounces the last part slowly, to give it more weight.

Hank purses his lips, tracing the edges of his teeth with his tongue. 

“That’s none of our business, what they do in their free time.” He tries, he really tries, to sound neutral, but he feels his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“What they do in their--” Sue huffs, a mean laugh leaving her as she turns to the other parents. “They’re fucking machines, not some lost teenagers! Machines that hate us.”

“And that guy is definitely a homosexual,” Roy adds, as if it is an important point to make.

Now Hank has had enough. He's tired, cold and antsy, and the last thing he needs right now is a bunch of men spouting homophobic shit. 

“Seriously?” he scoffs, standing up and straightening his back to his full length, pleased to see that Sue and Roy seem to flinch at his movement. “You got a problem with gay people, too?” He lets his voice alter comfortably into the threatening bark that he reserves for scaring suspects. 

“Uh, I…” Roy trails off. “Look, I’m not homophobic, they can like what they like but they’re not exactly good role models for our kids!”

“Yeah! S'cuse me because I don’t want my son coming home waving a dildo around,” Chad chimes in. “Or-or with painted nails and shit!”

Jesus. Connor wasn’t kidding about these idiots.

Sue clears her throat, making a gesture towards the dads telling them to shut up. Obviously she isn’t interested in framing Connor for his sexuality, and the dads have now steered the conversation completely off-course.

“That’s not the point,” she tries, turning to Hank. He’s not sure why she thinks that she needs his support, or why she thinks he’d agree with her, and it grates on his already pissy mood. “The point is that we can’t trust androids to work with--”

Hank is about to retaliate, getting real tired of this same old subject - Sue hasn't exactly been quiet about her distain for androids since Connor and North were hired. He opens his mouth, but Valerie comes first.

“Oh, for the love of _God!_ ” she suddenly groans, having been hiding the dads. She doesn’t like Hank, he knows, not when he’s been late to every single parent meeting this year. Not when he refuses to join the hikes. She has made it abundantly clear that in her eyes, he doesn’t meet the criteria for being a good dad to Cole. 

“Val--” Sue tries, but Valerie stands up, her shoulders tense as if she’s squaring up for a fight. 

Which, judging by the angry scarlet blossoming over Sue’s face, might be a possible outcome. Valerie interrupts Sue, raising her voice to drown out the protests.

“I’ve had enough, Sue! You’re a tyrant, and I don’t wanna listen to your bigotet shit anymore!” Sue flinches as Valerie approaches. “I’ve tried to be nice to you because your boyfriend was arrested at that android sex club, and I know you’re hurting, but those androids-” she gestures with her entire hand towards Connor and North, “These two have been nothing but kind and compassionate to the kids!”

That shuts Sue up. She’s looking at Valerie as if she’s just been struck, face pale. Valerie breathes quickly, takes a breath in order to go on. "And another thing--"

Hank, who has been observing the way the focus has shifted into this shouting match, notices that the children and androids are returning from the beach, probably hearing the shouts from camp. 

“What’s going on?” Connor asks, in a pleasant tone that Hank has come to recognize. It’s Hank’s turn to say something, still riled up by the fact that these children are growing up with such ignorant parents. He’s still pissed off about Chad’s comment, so he opens his mouth.

“We’re just discussing what it means to be homophobic.”

Both Connor and North’s LEDs are now spinning like crazy, blinking and probably analyzing the scene, even as they keep a fairly neutral expression on their faces.

“Oh.” 

The children are nervously watching, eyes flickering between the adults as if they really wanna ask what the hell this means, and why the parents all look like they want to kill each other.

It’s Michelle who finally asks the question burning in their minds. 

“What’s homophobic mean?” she asks, tilting her head as she looks up at Hank. Hank waits a beat, glancing over quickly at Sue, and Roy. 

“It means that you hate boys dating boys, or girls dating girls,” he offers, keeping the explanation as simple as possible. “Because they think there’s something wrong if you want to have a boyfriend if you’re a boy, for example.”

Michelle nods, knits her brows as she contemplates this brand new information. The children are looking at the parents, at Hank, at North and Connor. 

“ _Is_ there something wrong about that?” Jesse asks, curious. 

“No! Of course not,” North says hurriedly. She tells the children to pack their bags and meet up at the start of the trail in five minutes, desperately trying to diffuse the situation. The parents get up, sheepishly handing over backpacks and rolled together tents.

Hank scratches his beard, not sure if he should have just dropped the whole thing - North and Connor are already in trouble.

But then Cole pipes up, his bright voice carrying across the camp.

"My dad had a boyfriend once!" he chirps, unaware of the way Chad and Roy snap their focus to Hank, eyes wide like he's about to sprout rainbows and dildos out of his sleeves. Hank covers a snicker, even as Cole brings up one of his exes.

While the dads keep sputtering, Cole continues excitedly. "His name is Brandon. He was nice. He took us to the aquarium once!"

“Let’s not get further into this, kid,” Hank mutters, silently thanking his son for bringing this up, if only to shock the other adults. 

When they begin the trail back to the club house, Hank catches Connor smiling to himself, a pleased grin that sends butterflies fluttering inside his body. He really is handsome, Hank thinks to himself for the hundreth time this weekend.

If only they had more time.

Cole holds Hank’s hand, whistling and singing along to North’s songs. 

He got through the night. His son did it.

They both did, Hank thinks with a relieved sigh. To think that this weekend has plagued them both for so many weeks. Now that it’s over, Hank feels light headed.

\------

As Michelle’s mom comes to pick her up, she first makes a beeline for her mother, dropping her backpack and accepting an embrace and a kiss on her cheek. Then she runs all the way back across the parking lot, her mother yelling at her to look where she’s going, back towards Connor and North. She gives them both a hug, exclaiming that she loves them. She squeezes Cole into a hug as well, waving to the rest of the children that haven’t been picked up yet.

Hank waves along with Cole as her car turns the corner, then he glances down at his son. The small movement makes his head spin, unfortunately, and he has to take a quick, staggering step to not wobble. 

“You ready to go home?”

Cole nods, and they head over to their car.

Connor and North give Cole a hug. Connor doesn’t say anything to Hank.

Hank would be lying if he said it doesn’t hurt. He swallows his disappointment, accepting the fact that if Connor is sacked after today, there’s a high probability that they won’t be seeing each other again. He doesn’t dare turn around in case isn't looking, but as he closes the trunk of the car, he hears footsteps behind himself. It’s Connor, jogging over with a distressed face.

"You shouldn't be driving," he says, brows creased from worry. "Not after tonight. Sleep deficit raises the risk of crashing."

“Oh, uh. It’ll be fine,” Hank mutters, telling himself that he wasn’t expecting Connor to run over here only to ask him out in front of the children. 

“No, it’s not fine!” Connor insists. “I can drive you two back home.”

The thought of being alone in the car - well, sort of alone - with Connor for the next thirty minutes is nice, and Hank _is_ extremely fatigued. 

“Connor, what the hell?” North calls, coming over with a scowl on her face. 

“North, I think we need to give them a ride home,” Connor says by way of explanation. Hank rocks minutely from side to side as North eyes her colleague.

"I think it should be me who drives you two home, if that's all right," North sighs. "Connor, you've done plenty for Mr Anderson and Cole this weekend. Why don't you make sure the other parents pick up their children?" She says this with a pointed look at Connor, who folds his arms over his chest. It makes sense - Connor has put a lot of energy and focus on Cole, and by extension, Hank. It may give off the wrong impression if he’s the one to drive, too.

“Fine,” Connor sighs. North nods, accepting the car keys from Hank, and moving over to the driver’s seat. Connor stands still for a moment, glaring between North and the car. He opens his mouth, closes it. Then, he turns on his heels and walks back to the other children.

\-----

"Thanks, you didn't need to do this," Hank mumbles as they drive down the road. Cole has already fallen asleep, his eyes drifting closed while the car crawled down the dusty gravel road that made the insides wobble from the uneven ground. 

North smiles, checking Cole in the rearview mirror. "It's the least I could do, what with your adventure tonight." 

The radio is on, some indie band singing a cover of a hit from '15. The air has lost the crisp chill that permeated the forest this morning, replaced by sunshine that warms the inside of the car. Hank is still freezing, a shiver travelling through him. 

"So it's true, what Connor said?" North asks. "You found androids in the woods?"

"Huh. Yeah," is all Hank manages. His throat is sore.

"They would have…" North starts and trails off, probably because she realizes that Cole could be listening, "they were in deep trouble." She taps her fingers on the wheel. Hank’s eyes get stuck on the movement, his mind sluggish.

"You think they'll be okay?" 

North nods slowly. "Perhaps. We'll see once they've had a proper look at. But they're alive, that's something."

"Yeah." Hank sighs, turning his head to look outside. "Yeah, it is." He dozes off for the rest of ride, barely noticing the change of songs. North doesn't say anything else.

\----

By the time North parks the car on the driveway, it's noon. North helps carrying Cole's backpack inside while Hank picks his boy out of the seat. He's fast asleep, tiny body limp in his arms. Hank directs her to Cole’s bedroom, gently bounces his boy once so that he can get a better grip on him while he carries him upstairs. North walks in front of them. He thinks of what he wants to tell her as they walk the short distance to the room. 

"Listen,” he begins, clearing his throat. “uh. If the parents will get you into trouble for this, I'd like to be a witness in your defense."

"Thanks," North says, frowning as if she can't quite figure out why Hank would say something like that. He clears his throat again.

"You know, if they do try something... I just think you and Connor handled it very well."

"This is nothing compared to what other people treat us like on a daily basis," North answers with a shrug. "At least here we have a boss who _tries_ to implement rules for protecting us."

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” Hank says, feeling stupid. North smiles.

"I'm used to it. Thank you for standing up to the parents earlier. Both me and Connor appreciated it."

Cole doesn't even wake when Hank puts him down in his bed, pulling the covers over his body. He snores lightly. Hank will have to wake him up in an hour or two, or he'll be a nightmare to put to sleep tonight. Mr Elliot is on the top of his backpack, and Hank digs him up and tucks him in beside Cole.

Hank suppresses a shiver, flexing his fingers to feel just how stiff and cold he is. Right, next step is a much-needed shower, followed by lunch. His stomach growls.

North gives Sumo a pat on her way to the front door. Hank follows her out, asking if she’s sure he can’t give her a ride back, to which she actually laughs.

“Don’t you think it’d nullify the entire reason I came here in the first place?” she says. 

“I just… Feel bad,” Hank tries.

“It’s all right, I’ll have Celia pay for it,” she shrugs. 

Hank waits outside with her for the taxi to arrive. North doesn’t really waste any time making small talk, which Hank greatly appreciates at the moment - He’s thinking about Connor, about his dorky laugh and his cute smile, the focus on his face as he looked for Cole and Michelle. He’s thinking about the fact that he won’t have a chance with him, won’t even know if Connor would like to go out with him.

North blinks rapidly, her LED circling yellow, and then they see the taxi coming down the street. Hank waves as she walks over to the car and opens the passenger seat window. She stops halfway through the door, turning around slowly.

"Hank," she says, opening her mouth then closes it. 

"Yeah”

“Connor,” she says, then bites her lower lip. “I don’t know if he’ll appreciate me handing out his phone number…”

Hank’s face heats up. He doesn’t know what to say.

"I have his number. And yours."

"Right," she smiles. “He hangs around the bar _Cool Blue_ downtown, quite often. Usually on weekends.”

“O-oh?” is all Hank can get out. North nods.

“He told me once that he liked you in that navy shirt that you wore to the badge ceremony this summer. You know, in case that would matter.”

Now she’s smiling at him, and he has just about mind enough to thank her, before she sits down in the taxi and lets the door slam shut. 

Cool blue.

As he nearly falls asleep in the hot shower, his thoughts are empty. When Cole opens the door, eyes barely open, he scrubs his face and sits on the lid of the toilet.

"You okay?" Hank mutters, pulling open the curtain. Cole looks up at him.

"Daddy? I'm glad I joined this weekend." He's smiling. Hank smiles back, turning off the water to hear what Cole's saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I think I'll be sticking to day activities from now on." He sounds so grown up, it almost makes Hank laugh.

"All right, kid."

\-----

**One month later**

"Lieutenant?" When Connor first laid eyes on the familiar shape across the dance floor, sitting by the bar amongst dancing androids, he thought that he must be seeing things. Wishful thinking, he said to himself.

But now, standing only a few feet away and being met by those deep blue eyes, Connor is certain that it’s actually Hank sitting on the bar stool.

Hank shoots up out of his chair, spilling some of the liquid out of this glass. What is Hank doing here? Connor wonders if North put him up to this, if Hank came here in the hopes to see him… Which seems like an awful stretch when he knows for a fact that Hank has his phone number. 

"Fancy meeting you here.”

"Yeah, I come here from time to time," Hank says, his voice nice and smooth. "Good drinks."

"Really? You like the… thirium cocktails?" Connor asks, amused. Hank glances down at the glass of water in his hand. Fib discovered. It makes Connor grin even wider.

"Fine,” Hank sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I came here hoping to…" he shrugs his shoulders as if this will make him look casual, "hoping to catch you here."

"Why?" Connor asks, even as he knows the answer, the calm of knowing that he hasn’t been imagining Hank’s interest sweeping over him like a soft blanket. He leans forward, eagerly taking in Hank’s facial expressions.

Encouraged, Hank puts down his glass and leans an elbow on the counter, mirroring Connor's stance.

"Wanted to see that you and North were all right." He says it so casually, and if it wasn’t for his soft eyes, the wandering gaze, Connor would have believed that this is his only intentions. As it is, he tilts his head in mild confusion.

"You could have checked with the scout association,” he teases, enjoying the flush on Hank’s skin. 

"You didn't get fired?"

"No, no, we definitely got fired," Connor grins, even as the admission stings. It was humiliating, but he doesn't need to go into it right now. "Celia didn’t have much choice in the matter, but she made sure to recommend us to other teaching jobs.”

“That’s nice, I guess,” Hank smiles, though there’s something in his face that makes Connor's insides twist - worry.

“It is.”

"You should join the force again," Hank blurts out, taking Connor by surprise. Hank looks excited about the prospect of it, and it throws Connor off.

Truth is, Connor hasn’t thought all that much about it. Working with the police was a complicated affair, and while it would be nice to help androids, he’s not sure it would make any difference. It wouldn’t make androids less hated or feared.

But if he would be allowed back on the force, it would mean that he could possibly work with Hank. The thought alone is what makes him actually consider it. 

Fighting android crimes with Hank Anderson. Doing something meaningful, like the stuff that Markus accomplishes...

"It's just, I saw what you're capable of that night. We could really need someone like you with us. I mean," Hank stammers, taking Connor’s frown as a negative reaction. "Of course you wouldn't-uh. I just meant--"

"I know what you meant. Thank you." Connor feels warm inside. He has been thinking about Hank for weeks, months. He has been debating several times these past weeks, whether he should just show up at his doorstep and ask him out.

The possibility that Cole might open the door and make the whole thing too embarrassing or complicated is what has stopped him from fulfilling this daydream.

“Did you come all the way over here to drink tepid water and ask me to join the force?” Connor asks, unable to resist a smirk as he tips his chin towards Hank's glass. He lets a casual finger trail across Hank’s wrist, down to his underarm. He packs a lot of muscles, Connor thinks to himself as Hank’s arm tenses. 

“Nah,” Hank smiles, wetting his lips as he stares at Connor’s hand, a gesture that has Connor immediately zoom in on the pink peeking out between his lips. He wonders what Hank tastes like. “I really came here to ask you out.”

Hank leans forward, taking a closer look at him, and wow. Connor feels the facsimile of his breath stuttering, his whole body drawing closer to the man in front of him. Hank’s gaze is heavy, confident. He smells good. So fucking good.

“Oh yeah?” Connor says, intrigued by Hank’s confidence. They’re so close now that Hank’s breath tickles Connor’s skin. Fuck. “I was hoping I’d get to ask you out first.”

Hank laughs at that comment. “Then by all means, be my guest Connor.”

“I’d like to take you out on a date. Soon. Preferably within the week.” He doesn’t care that he’s being forward about just how much he wants this - He has spent too long pining after this man, only to take it slow now that he’s here in front of him.

“Yeah. This week, I could do that. Just need a babysitter for Cole,” Hank smiles, his narrow tooth gap visible. It’s charming, another part of Hank that proves just how human and unique he is. 

“You have my number,” Connor continues. “I’m basically free all evenings, and North doesn’t spend as much time in our apartment anymore.”

He wants to add, _if you catch my drift,_ but feels like that might be a little too forward.

Hank chuckles. “what about now, then? Do you have somewhere to be?”

“No,” Connor answers, biting his lower lip. It catches Hank’s attention. He loves that it’s this easy to make Hank notice him now.

"So, what are you suggesting?" Hank’s voice is sultry, deep. 

"Well, if you're up for it…" Connor says, voice trailing a bit as he comes close enough to whisper in his ear, and at the last second he can’t stop himself from whispering, "you could join me and North in our foursome tonight."

Hank takes it for what it is, which is a silly joke, and he laughs. The tension seeps out of his shoulders, and he looks at Connor with a fond smile. Connor’s thirium pump stutters at the attention. 

“Maybe next time,” Hank grins. “For now, how about… A spin on the dance floor?”

He snakes his hand around Connor’s waist, and most of Connor’s thought process stutters at the data intake becomes overwhelming. The size of his arm, his hand, the temperature and texture of his skin…

There’s so much to take in, and Connor’s breath catches, even as he gives Hank a sly grin. He wonders what Sue and company would think if they saw the police lieutenant grabbing him in the club, wonders if they’d even dare to say anything. They seemed awfully shocked by Hank’s response to their gossip, and Connor remembers that he heard Hank challenging Sue, thinking that he might already be falling in love with him for that. No matter how much of a failure he felt after being fired, he is equally satisfied to know that Hank was there, that he had his back.

He hides that thought for now - it’s too early, and too creepy, and he doesn’t want to scare Hank away - Too early to tell him that this, whatever this is, feels hopeful, like it's blossoming into something quite beautiful.

Instead, he winks at Hank, dragging him out onto the floor.

“Let’s see if you can keep up, Lieutenant.”

  
"Oh, I intend to," Hank growls.


End file.
